A Different Origin Than You know
by DurangoSANGO
Summary: Summary: A powerful martial artist gains a second chance and a new purpose. Intent on never failing again those wanting to break his spirit stop at nothing to do so.


The Remnant

*Chapter 1*: Chapter 1

Full Disclosure – Don't know if people even read these intros but thanks for checking out my story. I attempted it months (I think?) ago and after reading what I saved I just couldn't let the idea go to waste. Which leads to the premise.

The Premise - Future, or Mirai, Gohan is probably my favorite manga/anime character. Unfortunately there aren't many stories that explore his potential. I figured put the character, history in tact but with my own spin, in a setting that is much different from his own. Not a new theme. Characters from other properties might show up as well...

The Characters – This story is grittier, more grounded and less superhero-y, at least initially. I want an eventual team but the lineup is undetermined at the outset. Love interests and such aren't set either and frankly anything outside of monogamous ain't my thing. But, as I said, nothing's set in stone. I'd rather get in the flow of writing again (it's been a while) so whatever happens will happen.

I appreciate any views and can't wait to get this going!

Currently, On Earth 73...

Night flying was much better. A break to forget who he was. Accustomed to stopping the inhumane it was a change of pace dealing with petty crimes. It wasn't their first meeting. She was uninhibited, wild even, skulking the shadows of Gotham and launching herself across rooftops. She scurried down a ladder, falling to her feet, splashing fresh rainwater. An attractive foil with an athletic yet highly voluptuous figure. Constantly wearing the zipper of her skintight, one piece down exposed a large amount of equally large breasts. That was meant to draw eyes leaving the likes of men, and women, stupid. If only it worked on him. Looking after a pause she flipped the goggles of her cat eared cowl so nothing could circle pretty eyes he ignored. Hidden in the height of her glove she fired a grappling hook that could rip his flesh open. Without flinching he caught it and squeezed.

"I didn't come to play games, Selina," he said.

She was new, she worried him for reasons he didn't care to share and she irked with the best of them.

"Yeah you did," she said.

She dropped a pouch spilling its contents.

"What's the point of stealing?" he said. "Aren't you rich?"

Selina switched her child bearing hips, meaning to. And then she was close. Too close. So close he felt the tips of her claws tracing a line.

"You should ask those I steal from," she grinned. "They get away with it by hiding behind what they call decent occupations. There are worst things than death, precious. Some of them are still alive."

He let her continue if only to hear the point.

"— So naive. So powerful!" she gushed. His shoulders hard as steel she indulged wrapping her hands around both. "What's a girl to do? Scratch here, scratch there, maybe a little lower —"

Fed up he snatched her wrists.

"I'm trying to help you! If you were trouble, believe me, I'd know," he said.

"I think that's what I like best. Nauseatingly square with a dash of selfless. Your protege must've been proud."

"— I did some digging. There was this girl. Born into wealth. She learned her skillset at a younger than normal age and you know what? Her father accepted her before he passed. She had everything most people want. What I lost. A home. A family. She never wanted for anything and this is how you thank him? Whether you care or not it's pretty messed up," he said.

Selina scoffed holding her claws out like they were nails freshly painted.

"That's a cute story. Half true, by the way," she dared. "People like us aren't the common rabble, Gohan. We never will be. Whether you care or not we live in a dog eat dog world. Be that as it may it's a hell of a lot better than yours."

She entered his personal space like she owned it. Attention on the scar dressing his left eye, her warm breath on his chin, her favorite perfume threw him off. Base instincts gave. She won as he felt sorry for her. For himself. Gohan froze letting her tug at his bottom lip with her teeth. She licked until she hit his nose tip. Not warned he watched her sequence of backflips into darkness at the alley's end. Out of sight but not out of mind she left him with uncut diamonds and a small piece of papyrus. Sighing that he had to unfold it the number was local.

212-323-1765

Use it.

xoxo

. . . .

He wasn't a dresser so hoping he looked as such was pointless. The skullcap hid shorter, darker hair, foundation covered his scar, and horn-rimmed glasses altered pupil shape. The hoodie kept him warm. Revealing a bouquet of flowers she opened the way into her penthouse, as dressed down, pecking his cheek and taking what he almost fumbled. No mask, no latex and no ego she let him roam her foyer helping him out of his coat. He smirked at the t-shirt dropping to the height of her thighs. When his likeness was merchandised and by whom was another story.

"I'm glad you said yes," she said.

"Thanks for letting me," he said.

Her mischief spoke volumes. "I haven't let you anything yet," she winked.

He chuckled as he scrutinized rich decor. Of simpler tastes he wondered how much of her own money she spent for it. She returned to him with iced water as he didn't drink. She did. Her glass held vintage chardonnay and she gestured for him to join her. It was akin to ambling through an art gallery with as much to distract him. Through it all they found a sectional in her den. She turned off the fifty-seven-inch taking up much of the wall. The finest wood suspended their drinks. Selina tucked her gams under her bottom and propped an elbow on plush.

"This bothers you," she said picking lint from his undershirt.

"I must be that transparent," he said.

"Yes. You are," she teased.

"Well doing something like this is a first," he said. "Bear with me."

Selina was better at brazen. She pulled his head into her lap gaining a laugh. Above him was a rare beauty, the area behind her corneas like small spheres of apple, she swept the bangs from his stare.

"Who said I wasn't bearing?" she said. "I've entertained several men. Some were like us. Some weren't. You're neither. It doesn't make you less lame."

"You prep anymore insults before I came?" he asked.

"Let me finish," she said. "You're also the only one to see me as a person and not a thing to —"

He gave her a moment as she seemed to need one. She chose deflection.

"What?" he said.

"Nothing," she lied.

The room dimly lit it added to an ambience.

"You know," he began. "this is my first time seeing you without the suit."

"Play your cards right and you'll see me in nothing at all," she said.

"Heh, I don't doubt it. I gotta say this is nice. Just sitting around doing nothing," he said.

"Really?" she snickered. "You. The one who loves nothing more than to brawl and eat, think this is nice? Side note. Your metabolism is a nightmare."

"Now that you mention it do you have anything in your pantry?"

"Ugh."

It was his reverence for women. He didn't touch. He didn't try to. Another first. She did the touching on his grin and he let her.

"You're such a bore," she scoffed.

"I asked what you wanted to do," he said through a laugh.

"You did, didn't you?" She abruptly stood letting his head hit a cushion. Backed across the room and not yet in her hallway she dared him with a finger. "I say we paint the town red."

"What does that even mean?" he said.

"What indeed," she smiled.

As they could shoot the breeze for hours the down time wasn't quick. He took her up on whatever what was. What was different. She was different. He decided different didn't hurt and he could use more of it.

Not much could stop her momentum. Swinging forward, hanging on for dear life and squeezing a coil that couldn't break her hooked shot connected to skyscraper glass. Retracting it she turned shooting another. Arching let her explore in style. She loved every minute of it. Agile and twirling into a nosedive toward a sea of headlights. She popped a line before certain death. Pushing enhanced leg strength she snagged a pole looping around it twice and letting what she held go. Grace sent her high and fast over a ledge. Dropping like a flipped coin her feet and claws caught her weight.

"Ahhh. Gotham after midnight. Did you miss me?" she said flashing her teeth.

Surveying what was near her came next. A circular skylight. A door leading to a staircase. Piping and active units. Her date arrived with a flying swoop. Clad in a tattered top and able to levitate she had to enjoy the view. She stood from a crouch grinning at the fact that he looked like an airborne party favor.

"Know what you need?" she said. "Your own theme."

"I'll pass," he said. "What is this place?"

The building was no secret. She knew it to be on par with Genetech and Magnus Labs. Gohan finally set himself on his feet.

"Cross Technological Enterprises," she said. "I wanted to peek at the inventory list to see what's been shipping into and out of the Burnley Freight Yards. I don't plan on asking."

"I'm not committing a crime with you, Selina," he said and he meant it.

"You won't have to." She rolled her eyes. "Look you wanted to know how you got here. Aren't you even a tadbit curious?"

"You're thinking this has something to do with me?" he said half believing her.

"I know this has something to do with you," she said. "Interdimensional travel. It's all the rage but only a select few attempt such foolishness. Hence why we're here."

They watched technicians among others off the clock earning their six figure salaries. The skylight glass was cleaner than any he'd ever seen.

"Our point of entry is that chute," she pointed.

When Gohan turned from it Selina was close to offer another of her tools. Something to fit snug in his ear. She carefully adorned him with it.

"If this is legit I'd rather do it myself," he said.

"You're staying out here and keeping an eye out," she said and or bossed.

"I can control my speed," he assured. "They won't even see me coming."

"Last I checked stealth wasn't your bit, babe," she said.

"You always get your way don't you?" he sighed.

"How about I make you a deal," she said. "If I'm attacked by a rampaging murder bot, it's all yours."

Walking to the chute Selina struck it once. Padding in her gloves absorbed the force of its caving in. She tore it free uncovering a long drop. Arms folded across his chest Gohan looked to the narrow of it. His whistle almost got to her.

"God I love chafing," she made light. "Sometimes I wish the suit didn't make me look so glamorous."

"You wanted to go in," he snickered.

"If I get offed by a T-1000 can you feed my cats for, well, ever?"

"Probably not."

Done with the jokes and standing aside he watched her spring like her namesake. Her land in the chute perfect, arms bunched to her sides, she straightened her curves. Something set in Gohan's nostrils and it wasn't just Selina's smelling good. It was a hostile presence a mile away. Minuscule signatures he barely sensed but he could and he knew just what to do with them.

The crawl through an air shaft wasn't comfortable. It would allow her to see beyond the stuffiness. She remembered to keep her voice down.

"Attacked? By who?" she whispered.

["I think they're human. They're using the same camouflage. I'll be a few blocks away."]

"You do know what the term lookout means?"

["I am being your lookout! Find out what you have to! I'll keep them busy!"]

"Gohan? Gohan! Perfect..."

Pulling at one of her grapnel's she slathered it with a gel stronger than super glue. It held her in place as she lowered just a smidgen. She was higher up than she thought. An assembly line continued without a lull. Automated arms projected lasers that seared or etched into shiny surfaces. Blood rushing to her skull didn't matter. It was the sight of it all. They didn't look like machines for domestic use. Humanoids with layered armaments killed the notion.

"You've been a busy bee, Mr. Cross," she said.

She kept it with her always. Its extended rear plating she rubbed with more gel to secure it to a wall without interfering with its function. The motion sensor triggered a bite sized lens. She lowered a tad.

"Now let's see. There's always an obligatory console in plain sight." Spotting it she bit her lip. "Hello gorgeous."

Selina lengthened her wire to drop. No sound made so no problems. Her play at stealth ran its course.

Motion sickness didn't trouble him. He snatched a propulsion device from its user. Severing the connection to an apparatus the thug needing it formed. He caught another in his pass. Pulling one and dragging the second across the sky a third tried a barrel roll hoping to shake him off. Beams threatened him from others giving chase. Slamming one into his comrade he fell spotting a roof. He caught himself with a sliding turn on tougher boots. Not tensed but ready, bursting parts left the air. Regardless of their not being visible they couldn't cease their rhythm. It was all he needed.

The closest wouldn't expect two fingertips as they swiped through the nose of his gun. He ducked, snatched and lobbed one across the roof. A turned kick cracked a sternum. His next target got a shot off. He wouldn't get to fire a second. One flick shattered his opponent's kneecap. Spinning a palm he threw power swatting two from above. Each down and out, he made sure. Then he squeezed the weapon in his hand rending it to pieces.

"Catwoman. I'm headed your way. Catwoman? Can you hear me?"

Doubling back he searched one of the beaten. Ribbed gear, no signs, no written symbols and extra magazines for automatic rifles their tech was unheard of.

"This isn't over, freak," one of them winced.

Gohan ignored the gall when he took him by the collar. Another demonstration of a hidden strength he had to always control he hoisted the man from his flailing feet. Looking up into his struggle, the futile pawing at his hand, he had his fill of it.

"What do you want with me?" he said.

Coughing on his own fluids his catch wouldn't get to answer. As he fainted Gohan dropped him. He thought to pick at a harness, curious of it. Fastened to it a beeping nagged worse than a pest. It rang from a tool each of them carried. Walking for the one he spoke to he pulled a small remote that was no remote at all. On its flashing screen he could view what resembled a grid layout of the city. And his position. Ideas on how gave him something to consider when he tucked it beneath the fabric of his belt.

Security personnel didn't expect, of all circumstances, a cat burglar. Even more surprising was her agility and the bolas that captured them. Duct tape stifled any words but their eyes could freely roam.

"Sit tight, boys. This should only take a second," she said.

Turning to a keypad, an elongated monitor that stood as high as she did Selina was also an efficient typist. Production lines wouldn't halt as she didn't know how to turn them off. She could barely hear herself think it was so loud.

"Okay. The manifest. Crate numbers. Bing, bang, boom. There you are. Wait. HYBRID-001? Where have I seen tho —"

It flew at her but missed burning the console she used to ash. She had to leap from another. Mastered reflexes kept her on her toes. She wanted to get a visual and would. Snapping her bullwhip's end yanked her from it. Her feet on a rail it entered through parting doors; fully automated and eleven feet of silver bulk with twin cannons adjoined to missiles. Its head was flat to display its creator's image; someone bald and pale, his complexion veined and withering. Her spot above it she could see the gleaming red in his eyes.

"I don't remember inviting you, thief," he said.

"So you have bad luck. Or maybe it's the vibe in this room," she said pushing hers. "I take it the day shift crew have never seen this floor?"

"The point is moot. You won't be leaving this floor alive," he threatened.

White hot liquefied her post. She relied on her favored tool again. Her spiral slipped between an opening she swung around as a nuisance he couldn't outright murder.

"Look, I get it! Your parents chose Gunther! Maybe we can come up with a nickname less prone to ridicule!"

Snagging a pole to lean around it, letting her whip go she tossed twin balls and watched their splat against its HUD. She found something sturdy to support her weight curling around a blast and attaching what she shot to the machine's front. Retracting her line brought her right into its pincers. Loosing feeling in her hips she tried her hardest to pry it open.

"That's a little, unnh, tight—," she winced.

"Die!"

It flung her away as a temperamental child would a doll. She glanced for what she almost struck. She swung around, down, and then up landing flat on a second bridge. Three melting shots in rapid succession missed her somersaults. The mech could jump despite its size. It swung a heated blade tip to slice what she stood on in two.

"No means no, Gunther! Guys like you can't take a hint!"

"You are nothing more than a harlot in an elaborate fright mask. The mechs in this sector listen to me and me alone. I have an army!"

Selina gained the chance to spot a fall and a fist pulling back.

"I have a Gohan!" she said just before he plunged his hand through its top.

"— That felt good!" Gohan chuckled yanking at less durable circuitry.

More compact explosives left Selina's hands forcing it through a ramp. Gohan sprung into a backing flip to avoid detonations and the heavy metal crushing its legs. When he touched down, he turned.

"— Yeah, well, I could've done that," he said.

"Awww. You jelly?" She pursed her lips.

Sensing the blast to come was no parlor trick. He tackled her as it burned through anything in its path. Shielding her body the dust had yet to clear. The ringing in their ears had yet to soften. They could see the mech's husk reform. Split alloy healing as if it were born with the gift. It pushed through a wall and ran through several more like the largest ostrich. Gohan pulled a ruffled Selina to her feet. Back to back, his glance was to check on bound and gagged security guards. Sprinkler systems spun showering their focus. Debris fell, components caught fire, and open rubber tossed sparks. The point was indeed moot.

"You smell it too?" she asked.

"Uh huh," he said. "You weren't fighting the guy who kept talking."

"Yeah. I got that," she sassed. "Rhino-sized, radio controlled mechs. And they regenerate. Kinky."

"How's that possible?" he said taking a knee to sift through console fragments.

"Beats me. Know anything about the initials HYBRID-001?" she asked and the question struck a chord.

It rattled the pit of his stomach.

"Hey. You still with us?" she added with some concern.

"— Yeah," he said standing tall again. "Got anything else to go on?"

"I have plenty to go on," she said trying to worm a stare into his. "You first."

"This time they were human," he told her.

"Naturally," she sighed. "You're all but worried. Most of us fret people wanting to kill us. Or worse."

"I thought it was sexy to brush off danger," he said cracking a smile.

"Fearless is sexy, yes," she grinned with him. "Suicidal? Not so much."

Soaked to the bone the danger was thought to still be in the vicinity. Gohan made his way to several squirming. His glance moved to the ugly gash on Selina's shoulder.

"That cut needs stitching," he said.

"It's whatever," she said ignoring it.

She didn't realize her wound but her body ached. It amused her as she felt like a million bucks. Everything but winded despite the soreness. He dragged a collection of the terrified into a hallway beyond that sector. They hurried back into the vent she arrived through. Wrapping arms around his neck he pulled her with him and didn't delay. They left its violated end. She was light so she didn't impede his launch from it. Travel resumed without looking back or their needing to. No job well done because their daily wasn't a typical nine to five. It was a way of life. Pats on the back would have to wait. Neither could call what they accomplished a victory.

. . . .

She tried to shut her eyes for a respite. Her cowl wasn't worn. Neither was her suede sofa. She didn't change clothes. Sometimes wearing the suit in her penthouse happened. At her side he played nurse. How he tended to her reminded that she once had a loving father. Those sentiments went unspoken. Gohan looked from her gash to eyes that could coerce him in ways he never thought possible. If she fought a smile she couldn't win.

"Pay attention to what you're doing," Selina playfully whined.

"I am," he grinned. "After I patch you up I have to leave."

"What if I say you can't?" she said.

Her cowl in her hands she didn't look from its daring her to put it back on. Scissors in his he snipped the string attached to a needle. He wiped at her cut with chilled peroxide and pulled the chair he sat in closer. Everything else he placed in a nicked first aid kit. She brushed a hand through a pixie style she wanted to trim. The pain in her arm was there but it may as well have not been. His grin at her not just being too tough for her own good he chose to worry.

"You should be more careful," he said.

"Trained by a master escape artist. Remember?" she said. "It would've taken more than a discount Hugo Strange to do me in."

"What if a day comes where you can't rely on prowess?" he said.

"Then I'll improvise," she fixed her glove to say. "Come here."

Sitting up and when he was close she pulled his head into her lap. Her air conditioner kicked in to heat up her place. Beige walls and nearby clutter were a backdrop they didn't choose. He'd choose her thighs any day, an enticing combination of softly firm.

"We could do it, you know," she said.

"Do what?" he asked.

"Disappear. In Europe. Or anywhere we wanted," she said.

"I'm pretty good friends with the here and now," he said making her smile. "It wouldn't know what to do if I left it."

"Hardy har har," she mugged. "That you even have friends is cause for celebration."

Selina's fingertips were a leathery rough because of the gear she left on. Gohan didn't fight the fact that they were on his mouth.

"Having a purpose again is something I need, Selina," he said. "I can't just drop it like a bad habit."

"Your purpose is your bad habit," she said.

"Maybe it is," he didn't disagree. "You don't know what it's like to fail everyone you love. No one should go through it. Ever."

Selina's nervous tick was to look at anything but Gohan's staring when she didn't have a comeback.

"What do you do then?" she mustered the courage to ask.

He needed a moment. It was an important question.

"I'm working on that," he said after thinking.

Selina leaned into a cushion. She shook her head and smirked like it bothered her and he could guess why. Sitting up Gohan slid closer as she ignored him. He slipped fingers through the spread of hers. She wouldn't look yet, not even giving him the death glare when she was pissed. His attention was hers if she wanted and his ears listened anyway.

"So that's it? You disregard a chance at the alternative? That's your answer?" she said annoyed with his one-track mind.

"I never said that," he replied carefully. "If I could drop everything to go on trips I would."

"It's not about trips! It's about coming up for air," she gestured to make a point. "Sometimes you have to take what you want, Gohan. And them? Honestly. They aren't worth your time."

"— I don't believe that," he said partially shocked that she'd say it.

"It's not," she began but cut herself short. "screw it."

Anger wasn't the emotion she faced him with. Eye contact couldn't unseat his. She didn't shirk it. Selina also didn't want him to stand but he would. Gohan stepped from her and stopped.

"This is bigger than what we think now," he gently said. "If you're gonna help, fine. If not that's fine too."

The last of his words were a dead ringer. Selina couldn't dissuade him before, and after, he left. She somewhat believed how cold her reaction was. Barely into dawn outside and she needed an out. Her intent was to have an apology at the ready when she saw him again. If she saw him again. Either that or a way to smooth things over.

To Be Continued...

*Chapter 2*: Chapter 2

Within The Week...

The compound was an extension. Resilient to the bitter end, attractive, not looking her age, three-dimensional feeds looked down on the dark-skinned Director. The Advanced Research Group Uniting Super-Humans sounded better as the acronym A.R.G.U.S. Thinking she was in charge they loved reminding her that she wasn't.

"Solomon Grundy. Giganta," she read from a nearby hologram. "Human traffickers near the Indian Ocean. The list goes on and on."

["Director Waller. You've yet to intervene. There's a reason for this?"]

"There is," she said. "He's given us no incentive. If he does —"

["When he does. He's a thirty-megaton warhead operating with unlimited power and no supervision. That's something we can no longer tolerate."]

"I don't look a gift horse in the mouth," Waller leered. "He has potential. Potential I can work with. Regardless of its origin."

Their disbelief fell to a woman of war's giving them the eye. She wanted to give them the finger.

["Be willing to execute the contingency, Director. In case it gets to the collateral damage part of the relationship."]

It had several acres to itself. Its personnel scrambled manning weapons on the front lawn, anti-air turrets, smaller vessels for aerial combat just in case. The best trained of their agents enclosed their leader. All eyes on the younger man holding himself over nothing to catch him it wasn't that foreign a thing.

"Well," Waller said unimpressed. "I didn't think you'd show."

"Color me interested," he said. "We won't call it trust yet."

"There's nothing I'd need to hide from you," Waller bluffed.

"Sorry if I don't buy it," he said certain of his reason for showing up. "I'll play along. For now."

Waller begrudgingly nodded. They all followed his drop. When he could he extended his hands as he said he would. His captors secured both, leading him.

Two didn't leave their seats at a conference table stretching a room's length. Gohan's hands were freed but he was still the obvious elephant in the room.

"This place never feels completely right, Director," he boldly mentioned.

Armed agents stood at four corners. No one spoke so informally to their superior. Cigarette smoke pervading, its stink thick, Waller stood moving until she dropped a binder to plexiglass.

"That, is their leash." She returned to her chair. "Four-hundred pages of restrictive protocols. I'm trying diplomacy."

Gohan pushed the documents away not caring to read any of it.

"What makes me the perfect candidate?" he asked.

Eyeballing the young man's resolve, resolve she admired, Waller sighed. "Fall out," she ordered. "The kid and I need a moment."

Those standing tall and proud left in unison. Waller chose to wait until they had, and a barrier sealed.

"Go ahead," she soon said.

Gohan uncrossed his arms to straighten up.

"Just don't think I'm right for the job," he said.

The Director's first response was a snicker.

"A year ago I'd say you weren't," she said. "You proved me wrong. You proved them wrong. That's enough for me to consider it. You're not the only man out of time and space and you damn sure won't be the last."

"What's wrong with the Justice League?" Gohan asked as he was curious.

"Plenty. My proposition has more to do with the future," Waller said. "We can't rely on convention every time. It's great when it works but our enemies change the rules on a whim. That requires adaptation. Flexibility."

Gohan looked to the table. The choice was a no brainer though he didn't have complete faith in it.

"They were immensely powerful. If something like that ever came here," he said.

"That's the point, kid," Waller said leaning into the discussion. "We need you ready for it. Scratch my back and I'll scratch yours. I can't make a promise. I won't. But here's what. If there's a way to get you back home we can look into it."

It was tempting. Gohan wondered how much of Waller's words were bullshit. Pretty words twisted to coax. He made up his mind.

"Who else did you have in mind?" he said.

"Well. You seem to have taken a shining to the criminal," Waller was quick to say.

"Phrasing, Miss Waller," Gohan said keeping his face straighter.

"— Relax," Waller said. "Talk to her. We could use her unique skill set. There's a few more that fit the bill. You'll have to talk to them too."

Gohan stood never lacking for calm under fire.

"Keep your bosses off my back. If this squad really is mine it won't become some superhuman unit they keep on speed dial," he said.

"We finally agree on something," Waller scoffed. "You done?"

A resolute Gohan took his composure with him, adjusting his wristbands. He moved from the room's unwelcoming air.

"If you are," he said leaving Waller to sulk. The coming question stopped him in his tracks.

"The Androids," Waller began not looking from the table's polish. "could they be beaten?"

His back to the Director Gohan kept his stare forward.

"Yes," he doubtfully said. "With more time."

A heavy door dropped separating their differences. Alone she pondered his unwillingness to fold. Another she couldn't sway aggravated, and it would for the rest of a busy afternoon.

. . . .

He needed to jog. Done with women problems, problem problems, winding paths worked wonders. He figured amidst the public would do. He made sure to pace himself so his glasses wouldn't jump from his face. The day was icy enough to see his breathing. Hearing the voices of many he stumbled on a message. People held colorful signs of hate. Some denounced freaks, metas, or otherwise. One of the rally's speaker's made it perfectly clear. His assuming was amplified by the megaphone he railed in.

"Senator's like Robert Kelly, Ashford Johnson, they had the right idea! It falls to us! We have the power to bring about change! False idols like Son Gohan have their best interests at heart. Not ours! We're cattle among wolves and their false pretenses!"

Gohan watched the crowd lapping it up. He slipped through the noise until he stood at stage front. The speaker was a male no older than him.

"They poison the minds of our young! Crushing their expectations at never being anything but lacking. Mark my words! They will tire of us!"

Held signs shook with fervor. Gohan witnessed something else. A hooded female between the collective. She remained still, too still, a shroud hiding her issues. He could also spot her hand. She clutched a blade coated in shimmering dust. He shoved his way through anyone as she raised it. Swinging it down and across cut off the back of a knee. An agonizing shout stirred up ruckus. Others shoved Gohan aside preventing his reach for her. The rally's speaker backed as she jumped running across the scalps of some with perfect balance. In her leap she upturned a twirl. Dropping on the stage behind her target she wrapped an arm around his neck revealing her blade and bringing it to his throat. Gohan ripped his tracksuit, glasses and cap away.

"Let him go!" he said appearing as someone else.

The young protester focused on a hated hope. His only hope. His life flashed before the tears welling in his eyes.

"P-Please. H-Help!" he sobbed.

The girl's expression deadpan, she slit his throat.

"No!" Gohan yelled.

He caught him from her kick, his cut gushing red. Fingers against it issued a light application of power to cauterize. The twitching and heaving subsided. Gohan tore a sleeve from his undershirt to cover it, adding pressure. The opposition watched, a malicious influence guiding her. He couldn't pinpoint the odd in it.

"You wanted my attention," he frowned. "You got it."

He stood when she jumped from the stage, her weapon flickering out. Tossing the grip aside she wouldn't tense and her palms stayed ahead of her. Her stance seemed as loose. She dashed to meet his wrist with hers, throwing crisp punches to lean from, not that he had to. Harming her wasn't his wish. She met him anyway pushing her foot to his head and curling a flip to bring her leg against soil. Gohan took himself from it, arms at his sides.

"I'm not fighting you!" he barked.

It was a task to ignore his lust for battle. Half of his curse. She took on the stance she wanted. Gohan blinked away. Her foot struck air as his outline was the only thing available. He reappeared at her back. She sliced at his nose with a palm hitting his. Swinging her up sent her reeling. Her drop into a stance wasn't unlike a ballerina's drop from a pirouette. Implausible speed brought his fist at her nose gusting no hair on her head. Control pushed her hood from scarred cheeks.

"You lose," he said. His opponent's struggle was internal. Done with attacking she fingered her brow and collapsed.

"Hey?!" he exclaimed dropping to catch her.

Tapping her cheeks didn't wake her. She was a youth, like the protester, and like him she didn't respond. Her twitching eyelids perturbed. Touching her pulse Gohan understood only too well. She was clinically dead. He focused on the once comely girl in his arms, searching until recent stalkers arrived to rub it in. He'd seen them before. His worth shot from his feet. Synthetics ignored the fierce of it blowing at his short hair, or tried to, no righteousness and no pity for what they'd done. Gohan set himself before the boy that hated him and the girl that tried to kill him. Their formation lined, blades held to their backs, he stopped the two lunging. A tempestuous wind left his flex tossing the numerous back. His fist slammed their leader's cheek in an instant.

Dropped to his hands and knees he nearly keeled over. He rubbed his face. There was a pause at the registered pain and it enraged. Gohan ignored the slashing of five more. They did everything within heightened strength to dismember but his shout forced them back. Their leader tried a slice for his chin just as Gohan pushed at his foot. His counter sent his opponent flipping before a hard slam against his skull. The ground didn't care for his health as he spat black fluid.

"— W-What— are you?!" he coughed.

"You picked the wrong day to try your luck," Gohan leered.

The wind smothering him died down, the beaten were plenty, sprawled around him as pieces of a humanish jigsaw. Something small and hard rolled to shoot a thick cloud. It burned his nostrils, his sharp sense of smell heightened to a new form of unpleasant. He gave chase into the smoke but his vision worked against him. Their leader gone he remembered the fallen. Taking the weakened boy and deceased girl into his hold an ascent was his next choice. It took seconds to fly from one of the park's ends to the other. He'd have to wait for an ambulance. And all the while those passing by or stuck in traffic snapped photos of his failure.

. . . .

The protestor survived, checked into intensive care where he would recoup. That was the hope. But the unexplained death of a teenage girl humbled like nothing else. It was too familiar. A disturbing image of her pain played in his mind like the worst song on repeat. A crueler breeze had nothing on it.

["Go home, handsome. You've done your part. Let nature take its course."]

He stood even tempered, his foot on a ledge, the folds of his gi and belt in motion.

"Here was supposed to be different," he said.

["You still aren't getting it."]

"What?"

["It doesn't stop. Your life. And yeah. You've tasted what not being fast enough is like. Not being strong enough. Guilt can be a scornful bitch but she doesn't matter. You survived hell on earth. What most wouldn't. Let tomorrow be what it is. Another shot at doing better. Being better."]

Gohan often forgot they were the same age. Selina's ideology surpassed her years. He joined a worried watch with people before ending the call. Pulling himself over it his eyes were forward and it was his turn to be inspired by a newfound friend. She was right. He had to come up for air.

. . . .

He woke to somehow being above his blanket. An excellent vista just outside his bedroom. He preferred the endless woods and plains. Creases in his tank-top were no different from the jeans he slept in. He didn't remember when he returned as the day before was one of his worst. He smelled something wonderful. Heard an out of date television and crackling in a pan. His feet hit the floor on his reach into a stretch. His visitor wouldn't notice. Selina's t-shirt a tinge like baby powder and knit shorts had all the markings of beat around. She went to sleep a looker. She woke up a looker.

"Tall, dark and crazy's awake," she said not turning to see him yawn.

Gohan found a seat. "I didn't know you cooked," he said.

"Oh no," she played.

"It is the end of the world," he heartily chuckled.

"Give it time," she said. She came with two plates. Plates she set ahead of sitting. Steak and eggs gave her a chance to pry. Not proud of it she knew he'd only be honest. "You got in late last night. Laps around the world?"

"Had to clear my head," he said. "I guess you could say flying is great for forgetting you exist."

"An escape," she said.

"That and fighting," he added. "Maybe I have too many escapes. Is that what luck is?"

"It's certainly not bad luck," she said through her chewing.

Gohan scarfed down his meal as she took her time. He looked from it to Selina's placing a mug close by.

"We agree the outskirts of Gotham City works," he said, then sipped. "But what are you?"

Selina cleaned what she used in a filled sink. She washed dishes by hand and Gohan gulped anxious for her opinion.

"Way out of your league." She shot him the slyest eye. "Great Saiyaman though —"

"Please, just, no. I'm so glad that never became a thing," Gohan winced in fake pain.

He soon joined her, wrapping arms around her stomach, propping his chin on her shoulder. She bit her smile kicking at him when he walked off and didn't mention what she already knew. She wanted to let him do it.

. . . .

"— Now that I think of it. Dimensional traveler. Check. Scarred face pretty boy every chick from here to Timbuktu has the hots for. Check," he went on about. "Oh snaps! He's totally Cable!"

His mark contributed nothing to the conversation. Not that he was part of it. The infamous mercenary didn't reach for either of the katana strapped to his back. He already held one of two pistols press checking it without having to look. His mark glanced to the fallen. Some of his men were missing limbs. Others were full of shell casings if they weren't scattered on the floor.

"This was fun, Frank. Your name's Frank right? You look like a Frank." He stood dropping a half-eaten chocolate bar. "Time flies when your bullet wounds close themselves. They put up a hell of a fight."

The mark wanted to make a move and didn't resort to begging. He held out the barrel of his handgun clutching the grip of one of his swords.

"What's it gonna be? Stabbed or popped," he said. "The two for one deal's a hot commodity. Get it while the gettin's good."

"Please! Whatever, whoever's paying you to do this, I'll triple it!" the mark pleaded. The stink of his help wasn't helping.

"You swear on your life?" the mercenary asked.

"Yes!"

The trigger squeezed one of Intergang's members lost brain matter and his usefulness. The mercenary grumpily holstered his pistol.

"This is so lame," he said.

There were voices converging on his position. All manner of automatic weaponry in tow. And there was something else. Pulling the device from one of the many pouches on his belt he noticed it was well on its way. An outdoor transport and not the legion of grunts banging on the comms chamber he locked himself in.

"Hold your goddamn horses! I'm plotting some more very justifiable homicide!" He poked at the screen in his fist. "It's gotta be one of 'em. Hope it's Major Force. I owe that prick for tearing my head off."

He dug through the mark's pants taking whatever bonuses he could, stopping to check his surroundings one more time. A job taken to every conceivable extreme was, in his opinion, a job well done.

Exhaustive schematics provided the means. He would know. Reimagined to seat several it shot against the air as a lightning fast silhouette. At the controls of its wrap-around cockpit, he steered, she fed him ideas. The new flight wheel gripped he set his focus on her efforts.

"Like what you see?" Selina smiled.

Not hiding it Gohan admired her outfit. Too tight, too sensual, newly added was its choker. Only one considered themselves part of Waller's initiative. The other claimed allegiance to herself.

"Autopilot is useful," Gohan said. "I'm not so sure what we're doing is right here."

"It's Wade Wilson," Selina said. "There's never anything right about that."

Her fingers tapped holograms. Gohan watched and did so religiously.

"Bulma would love this tech," he said. "I only hope they made it."

"According to you her son was well trained." Selina offered her full attention. "I'm sure they're fine."

"— Right," Gohan said with little to go on.

Like him Selina let it die. She looked to see his following every pixel of a command center tracing itself.

"Intergang," he said.

"Only Wade would accept a job like this. Makes you miss Deathstroke, doesn't it?" she sighed to say. "We get in, find him, and get out. If all goes well we won't have to break anything."

"Got it all figured out don't you?" Gohan said.

"Your slip is showing," Selina said looking him up and down. "Worried you aren't cut out for it lover?"

Gohan was used to her derision. Such was her way and most would take offense.

"That's pretty good," he smirked. "You'll make a decent addition to the squad. We're short on comedians."

Selina tracked their airship's fuel reserves. "Haven't said yes yet have I?" she said. "I agreed to accompany you because you're hopeless without me."

"Yeah," Gohan laughed. "Completely."

His flipping a switch gave rear thrusters a boost.

. . . .

She waited on the edge of its only ramp. He could carry himself. Their eyes met before his nod. She took a running leap latching onto his back. She prepped her gear for the op. Her rush coupled with the air's they weren't worried about the pace they traveled nor how high up they were. Thousands of feet below it the wilderness of Serbia was the perfect cover.

"I enter here!" Selina shouted through the noise. She showed Gohan a fully functioning computer no bigger than a tv remote.

"Okay!" he said straightening to speed up.

Above a tree line, she let him go. Her fall slowed only when the pop of a whip snagged a branch that could support her. She found the soil with her fingers and the balls of her feet. Shedding her rebreather she skulked without the luxury of shadow. The temperature wasn't comfortable but it didn't matter. Slowly, carefully, she lowered until she was prone tapping her cowl to drop its lenses. It heightened already heightened vision. Her partner waited for the signal. Fifteen in their way and the one they came for was a floor up. Another press of her cowl reset it.

"We're a go," she whispered.

She could see the power in his hand. Not a light show but a real problem for some. Hot and white it left his palm as a burst. He remained a ghost until she needed him. If she needed him. Dashing the closest to her felt a foot against his shin. She struck his nape with a chop. Fourteen left. Dragging him behind a tree was better than out in the open. Pressing herself to it, she peeked. They were still searching for the cause. Garbed from head to toe in padded, blue and black was typical of their lot. She felt embarrassed for them.

The next three were a bit further up. Her comrade was right. Their weapons weren't standard issue. Aiming her wrist two pellets shot at their feet. A colorless vapor played havoc with their sight. She worked quickly slamming two faces with the same heel. She turned the arm reaching for her before pulling the heavier person over her shoulder. His back snapped up dirt. Her grapple ended with the breaking of his wrist as she stepped on his scream. Eleven left.

Making it inside, it should've looked like a well-maintained command center. It looked more like a war zone. Selina ignored the damaged monitors. The spray-painted equipment. She had to step over a few bodies aware of the culprit. Even as he dropped like a red and black buffoon from the ceiling. She kept her distance far and her claws ready.

"Wade," she blankly said.

"OG cat lady?! Lookin' good babe!" Wade squealed swinging his out arms on the walk up. "Give Daddy DP some sugah!"

Grabbing his groin and squeezing as hard as she could Selina wouldn't laugh at his knees buckling.

"Touch me and I'll make sure they never grow back," she sneered clenching her teeth.

"— God I love you!" Wade winced. He backed off kicking at nothing to lessen the sting. Selina shook her head at his hopping up and down.

"Listen to me very carefully, Wade. We're gonna wrap this up. Then we're gonna talk. You're gonna shut up and listen. We crystal?"

She eyed the many weapons on his person. He reached for none of them.

"Oh. I get it. Look I told you ditch the guy ages ago," Wade said setting hands on his hips.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Selina asked crossing her arms. She raised a finger. "Know what. Never mind. This won't work."

When she approached it was to slice his mask from his face.

"Ah ha! Fisticuffs now! Handcuffs later! I'm so onto you!" Wade said dodging what he could.

"Just thought it'd be easier to drag you out when you're unconscious!" Selina swung her hands into his blocks, her feet past his ducks. She had the speed and the acrobatic flair. One of Wade's throwing knives missed her spring over it, her feet hitting a column, she pushed from it. Her boot slammed his jaw and the crack was loud. Wade's back met a wall. Hard. Selina held out an opened hand holding the other by her hip. If she left openings seeing them was no easy task. Wade shook off a dizzy spell.

"Y~ou b~ro~k~e my j~a~w!" he mumbled snapping it in place. "All better!"

Selina's stance chosen she had to read his every twitch. Anything else would be suicide and she couldn't see his expression.

"Come quietly, Wade," she said again.

"I'd love to, snookums. But I ain't seein' dem' bargaining chips. Got any between your cleavage?" he said pulling at his swords.

Turning his wrists once spun both. He held them down. Selina blitzed. A sword butt bashed her stomach. She caught his next attempt effectively dislocating his shoulder.

"Yipe!" he screamed.

His enjoyment pissing her off Selina wrapped his neck with her thighs bringing him down as quickly. Keeping his skull between limbs strong enough to crush a watermelon Wade pulled at the pressure.

"Okay— it's, like, super— hard," he quipped through gasps. "A— hot sociopath choking you to— death. There's no better— aphrodisiac!"

Selina huffed her frustration at his not giving in. She couldn't win and she knew it. It dawned on her that Gohan wasn't there yet. She loosened her hold ready to break another of his bones if she needed to.

"Get up, imbecile," she hissed allowing him to stand.

Wade jerked at his arm until it functioned normally.

"See. Was that so difficult?" he said poking at her furrowed brow.

Selina smacked his hand away. They wouldn't have time to talk it over as C4 went off knocking her into him. Intergang thugs poured into the room not seeing anything through the dust. Weapons were primed as their targets vanished.

"Where'd they go?"

"Eyes open. They're still in here."

The first victim lost a leg. Wade sprung over another to lop off his head. Selina spiraled forward cracking ankles and bringing two to their knees. Tightening her bullwhip around a neck she punched his helmet as she reached for his gun. Slicing it in two she spun a kick into his partner's cheek. In her periphery was Wade severing the hand from one of the last.

"Order up!" he said tossing it flippantly.

Selina brought her last opponent's chin to her knee. Wade pulled her close taking her from chaos in the blink of an eye. Outdoors, on a rooftop, she shoved him. He lowered to prep a compact mystery.

"You in the mood for fireworks?" he asked pressing it.

"Wait?!" Selina reached but the next burst, much bigger in worth, rocked the forest.

The compound's debris flew in any direction. When she could hear herself think she snatched his gear nearly slamming his face to hers.

"What the hell, Wade?!" she fussed.

"It's an Intergang dump. Who's gonna miss it?" he said dismissively.

Selina wanted to punch him again. She couldn't reach Gohan. She had questions.

"— This wasn't your typical. Was it?" she dared to ask.

"You're smarter than you look," Wade sneered. "Word on the street is someone's got it in for your boy. Snoopin' around was on the list, just, y'know, not as important as the money. Which was minimal. Only a hundred grand. I know! Lunacy!"

He carefully pulled Selina's hands away.

"Maybe we can get each other off— I mean— help each other out," he said.

"How much?" Selina rolled her eyes as Wade clapped blood and grime from his gloves.

"Nuh uh. I see the boytoy first. We have our pow wow. Then we talk shop," he said pointing at his balaclava. "I got my reasons. Where is the jerk anyway?"

He got his answer in the form of an aerodynamic hull. Lower thrusters built into it blew at anything loose when it lowered. Ejected from its cockpit the pilot could defy gravity. He looked down on friends with no ego to speak of.

"Right here, Wade," Gohan said.

"— Go Gooooo!" Wade screeched waving his hands. If he acted the fool then Selina couldn't help it. She wasn't the only one. Gohan cracked the lightest smile with her.

*Chapter 3*: Chapter 3

A hangar's length stretched on forever. A.R.G.U.S. HQ had several and their space was a loan. Upon exiting their transport, also a loan, the last thing on Gohan's mind was that Selina had the body for her catsuit. She caught his staring.

"You didn't say we were working for losers, Go Go," Wade said.

"We're not," Gohan said. "You'll just have to trust me."

"Here she comes," Wade added. "Viola Davis's stunt double. Only she's useful and you're a dud. Embarrassment to the family much, Amanda?"

Each of them noticed the scowling Director parting her way through four of her agents.

"Look what your betters dragged in," she said attentive to Wade. "Even failed experiments have a moral compass."

"The love is sooo real. I didn't bring the hand I wanted to slap you with. It was missin' the middle finger."

"You two finished?" Selina huffed not wanting to be there. "We're here, Waller. What now?"

Waller turned her back and took point. "Intergang's synthetics," she said on the move. "Nothing like we've seen. We aren't ruling out an offworld influence."

As a group they passed activity. So many carrying on with tasks. None of them stopped to take it all in. Walking the compound's alloy halls when they did it was inside of the room Gohan remembered. The first to sit Wade kicked his feet up pulling at one of his knives, twirling it around his pinky. Selina stood, her hands on Gohan's shoulders when he decided to rest. Waller sat at the table's head waving off any agents on the clock in leathery jumpsuits. Their business casual superior waited until they were gone.

"You had my word before and you've got it now," she said. "Off the record this team is for the express purpose of investigating a hunch. If there is something out there you have the authorization to put it down before it becomes a problem."

Selina squeezed Gohan's shoulders hoping to massage away his tension. He didn't blink. It was a wonder if he even breathed.

"Who's the mark?" Wade asked oblivious to anything.

"Hopefully," Waller paused. "no one."

She focused solely on Gohan. The most affected. There was nothing more to it and she chose against rubbing salt in the wound as a favor to him.

A break room wasn't quite a prison cell despite bland offerings. The only door lifted itself to let his visitor step through. Selina, still in costume, didn't mind Gohan without his gi and undershirt. He doted on his new arm, which shouldn't have been real, letting it go as he sat up.

"Planning to spend the night?" Selina said.

"I was thinking about how I met you," Gohan said.

"Were you now?" Selina tilted her stare taking a seat on his cot. Her excuse for rubbing his knee was her business. Gohan set his back against the headboard.

"It's more about how we didn't," he continued. "The only women on my Earth were wiped out. There was one of the, well, you know. Can't forget the time spent with my mother. Bulma was an aunt if anything. You miss out, you get over it. There was never a choice."

"You have one here," Selina said.

She carefully stood. Gohan leaned back like it was the right thing to do. He didn't believe her climbing onto the cot. He didn't believe her trapping his pelvis between thighs that were much stronger than they looked. He felt the lower curves of her bottom pressing through the suit. He was going nowhere. She ran dark claws along his chest. For the longest time she touched his sinewy torso at her leisure.

"You saved my life," she admitted.

"How?" he asked.

"— I could've killed Cobblepot." She stared off. "Play myself into thinking it would've been the right thing to do. I needed a full stop."

She could feel the press of his enthusiasm through his pants. It curved her grin. She secretly adored his blushing. The way he rubbed his nape when embarrassed. Giving him a break she hopped from his lap to her feet.

"You know Mary and I are acquaintances," she blurted out.

Gohan's brow furrowed. "The way you say that."

Selina muffled her laugh. Hands on her hips she shook her head.

"You can think about her, Gohan. It's no secret," she said. "I think about friends of the opposite sex all the time."

On his feet Gohan's posture complimented hers.

"Let's just say you both baffle me," he shrugged. "Trouble makers through and through."

"Trouble you can't get enough of," she fired back. "We getting out of here?"

"In a few." He remembered to take his minute. "Keep an eye on Wade. I've got my issues with Waller. Believe me. For now it's best to not make waves."

"Done," she grinned. She was already on the other side of the door as she said, "Chin up, handsome. We can play hooky whenever we feel and get away with it."

"That's not very reassuring," he called out hoping she heard him. Wishful thinking.

. . . .

He opened his front door forgetting he had a front door. Rarely being home did that. Basic furniture decorated his place with not much else. He sighed taking his glasses off, and found a seat at his only desk. Bluetooth pieces lay scattered by a notebook next to a filled mug with a mechanical pencil next to both. Next to all that, a generic cased smartphone. As it twitched he could see a name: Mary Batson.

"Hello?!" he scrambled to put her on speaker.

["Don't hurt yourself. It's not very stupidly powerful macho."]

"I guess it wouldn't be," he smiled leaning back and his chair leaning with him. The opened blinds of his window let in the day's remaining light. "When did you get back?"

["Two days ago. Met up with Waller. She told me her nonsense and I told her to kiss it."]

"There's some merit to what she has in mind."

["That's why I called. I wanted to hear why you've lost yours from your mouth. Not hers."]

"I understand. Waller's not to be trusted. Only you, Wade and Selina remind me every other day.

["And there's the kicker. Selina Kyle? Wade Wilson?!"]

"It's not as bad as it sounds."

["Then let's hear the abridged version."]

A light application of power left his finger warming the device he tinkered with.

"We think my time machine may have brought something else on the trip here. Something left inside of it or maybe something that got in. We've had a run in with synthetics that creep me out more than I care to admit. Gunther Cross had a mech. I was attacked at Robinson Park and a Intergang outpost in Serbia. We can't place the period on where they're coming from and the Justice League can't be bothered. According to Waller."

He moved his hands so fast it seemed he didn't as he took apart and reassembled.

"I thought the Androids killed me. You know the story. When I woke up I was on your Earth with a new arm and clueless. I do know Bulma's machine was never supposed to be capable of interdimensional travel." He paused to let it sink in. "We're investigating all of it. That's what the squad is for. Why I need your help."

["— You're making the puppy dog face aren't you?"]

"Heh I'm not. It's the truth," he said. It took a while until he heard her sigh.

["When do you need me?"]

"Well I was hoping we could discuss it in person. If it's not too much trouble. Or you could say no."

["All right. No."]

"What?"

["No I said. You won't meet up with me. I'll meet up with you. Till then breathe easy. Maybe play it cool the next time you hit on someone."]

"Who said I was hitting on you?"

["I said someone. It's okay that you're terrible at it."]

"Terrible but not punched. If you were here, I'd get punched for asking."

["I'd never punch you."]

"You would definitely punch me."

["Whatever. I have to go. Talk soon?"]

"I guess so."

When the click passed he powered his phone off to take a break. Turning in his seat he wasn't at odds with privacy. He couldn't just relax. Ever. That would invite death back home. Brown walls, hardwood flooring and fake ceramic sinks. Something usually happened when he found that peace and quiet. It was a breath of fresh air when something didn't.

. . . .

"— It's different than it was. You do what you need to so I gave the League a go for a bit. I don't know what it would feel like to be in full control of my power. I can only go on instinct," a gorgeous colleague shared. Russet eyes, a perky brunette, the deep brown of her hair curled past her earlobes and her favorite conditioner made it pop. Gohan could spot her dimples because she offered a magnetic smile at his making small talk. But the break was over.

"Think fast!" she tried.

A torrent of techniques met his blocks. Her figure too sumptuous in the metallic black of her costume, he didn't let it get to him, shifting away her swings. A fist met his palm when they clashed and she swept at his feet when he jumped. He brought his tossed counter to her skull, a counter she pushed away, his reaction a retreating hover and his bare feet stayed above the ground.

"Told you I'm no push over!" she boasted.

He dropped some ways away brushing off the taunts. His smile to antagonize tipped the scales. She took up a brawler's stance, amateurish, but it suited her.

"Your punches might actually land if you relaxed your shoulders!" he toyed.

"Aw that tears it!"

He moved according to her lightning fast punching. Fighting someone as strong was a thrill he needed more of. He caught one of her blows, the spark of impact like the crack of thunder. He chose to balance her brash with kindness.

"Had enough?" he said.

She relaxed, backing off, suddenly not as mouthy. Rolling her shoulders joined a sigh.

"I appreciate you taking the time out and I know what you want me to do," she said, apprehensive. "It's a tall order."

"You asked what I thought, Mary. I won't force anything on you."

She chuckled at his upstanding take human standards be damned. She then remembered he wasn't all human.

"There's a name for this. Friendly blackmail?" she said swiping the grit from her boot laces.

"I consider my friends, is all. Nothing special," he said.

"Something special," she corrected.

They stood among plains of damp grass, nothing nearby but welcomed nature and the formidable chill couldn't deter. Mary bent over to scoop her cell phone as it rattled. She pressed its screen only to roll her eyes.

"Rain check?" she said seeing his grin.

"Sure thing," he said. "Thanks for coming."

"Thanks for the pointers," she said lightly punching his stomach. "We'll talk more about that thing later, yeah?"

"Whenever you have a moment," he said.

She backed so she could launch without him getting caught in the lift off. Her shooting into the air folded the grass. Gohan stood still to look up but when he did, she was gone.

. . . .

Walking from her penthouse building she buried her glossed lips and chin into a scarf, stuffing hands into a down jacket. To her left was the usual. The Diamond District's luxury and only the wealthiest could frequent it. The night called to her in ways she may not have understood. It brought her peace. Hearing something, she stopped first, then turned. No one was following her but the wind's howling against the layers keeping her warm. Turning again to walk alone she noticed all of nothing which was the issue. No pedestrians. No stray animals crying for a quick nibble on whatever they could find. She never would see it coming. Snatched by the throat a grip that could flatten steel pressured her windpipe and took her nowhere but up. She pulled at it first but a cold hand wouldn't budge. Opening her eyes gave her something to mull over.

"Just the pretty kitty I was hoping to catch," it said. "— It's no fun when you least expect it, is it?"

Her fist struck its palm and it clenched. Squeezing its hardest broke her fingers. It slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the scream. Keeping her at an altitude not beneficial to her talents, it carried her off into darkness.

["The CEO and founder of Cross Technological Enterprises is presumed dead after the incident at his Gotham branch several weeks ago. Under investigation for the alleged manufacturing and distribution of —"]

"Figures," she said, on flight duty.

Disabling a window disabled bad news. Comparisons had to be made. A latex, unitard fit her snug, was skirted, with shin high boots yet nothing she wore could outshine the golden bolt. She handled foreign toggles and switches like she'd been doing so forever. Gohan barely believed his machine was capable of space flight. The years changed more than his outlook.

"Selina said the contractors owed her a favor. Whatever that means," he said focused on where they were headed.

"She's not meeting us there?" she turned to ask.

"I don't know," he said. "I've been trying to reach her."

Mary noticed his impatience. He was worried. He peeked from one of several ports seeing fields suitable to farm. The beep of a radar ping let them know.

"Hold onto your butt," she said tiliting the flight wheel. The nose of their craft dipped low. They fell for the ground on a collision course with it. They hit nothing. Past the digital lie was a tunnel brightly lit. Mary slowed their speed to curve down and straight.

"Wow," Gohan gushed.

One vehicle for flying ambiguous skies sat on the flat square pushing up to hold it. The cockpit shield blew off air as it was unsealed to let its passengers free. Gohan hopped from it first taking Mary by the hands to help her down. At his side to marvel at underground consoles, not too spacious, not too small what gave it its own identity were chambers housing amenities. They assumed the giant wide screen to their right was a way to view current events.

"She really spared no expense," Gohan said searching anything he could lay eyes on.

"Job one is keeping Deadpool away. Far, far away," Mary said turning in place.

"How can she afford all this?" he naively asked. It was then he felt it. He oft compared it to his skin crawling. A full body tingling neither pleasant nor uncomfortable. He could sense Mary's worth. One of the most intense. He sensed someone else's. It was fading.

"Selina," he mumbled. He left in a hurry keeping his chin down.

"Gohan?" Mary followed his walking too briskly. "Gohan!"

Keeping with him she chose to stop. He didn't, running into a leap and swooping along the exit.

Dried stone made up the floor beneath her booties. Binds kept her suspended over and within a grotto. The metal around her neck joined prongs digging into her flesh she couldn't move her raised hands. Getting her bearings, cottonmouth aside, her bruising was nearly healed.

"You're not easily broken."

Gohan stepped closer to Selina's disdain to bask in it. It ran a finger along her cheek despite her cringing.

"The collar suppresses that oh so unique potential of yours. The more you struggle the more it will burn," it said.

"Better men have tried," she said. "Cross really has been busy—half baking toys molded in someone else's likeness."

She spat over the taste of copper on her tongue. Pushing buttons worked to an extent it pawed at her scowl bringing its own closer.

"This toy is the face of your worthless future," it said. "He's the abomination. A half breed that shouldn't exist."

Rougher when it released her attention fell to torn clothing, stained and dusty. It turned its back, a brighter twinkle in its fully powered eyes, anticipating the main event. There was the boom like rolling thunder and both could hear it no matter how far underground they were.

"That's it," it nearly salivated. "come and get her."

Bursting through the cave's ceiling he didn't think to slow. He curved the too swift of a swoop meeting his clone with the force of a sidewinder missile and taking it through several walls of rigid. He slammed his fist with whatever he could hit. And pushed. Regardless of what they rammed he pushed. When he carried it throughout the ground and from it they opened a layer of ice soaring straight up. A right hook's connecting sent his opponent into a cliff side. The location's quake wouldn't even out until he caught his breath. Mountainous rock was no match shattering to bits as it rose to meet him. Facial circuitry exposed and split it still had the gall.

"That all you got?" it said.

Gohan didn't care. Not about why it had his face, its posturing, nor the intentions of the unseen. He mustered a breakneck launch. His fist bashed his enemy's writing half a mile dents into their stage. Swinging a free hand missed but its kick snapped into his rib cage wouldn't. The breath knocked from him it seized its chance to take another. A hand around his neck, it squeezed.

"What? No Super Saiyan form?" it mocked. "It wouldn't be enough though would it?"

It forced metallic knuckles into his gut.

"Ahhn!" he winced.

"— He said I'm not strong enough to kill you," it smirked. "Tsk. Watch me."

With a tensed spread of the eyes Gohan remembered himself. Strands of his hair stood on end flashing gold, mellow brown eyes a fierce green between the whites. The floodgates were open and potential shimmered around his tensing up. His clone jerked from his shout.

"RAHNNNHHHNH!" it screamed.

Smoke seeped from the slits in its glare despite frantic wiping. Gone was a crucial piece of its functioning. It trembled in shock first then snatched Gohan to drive him down.

"YOU'RE DEAD!" it yelled squeezing his collar on a whistling fall.

Gohan's back caved in the ice he was slammed through. Driven deeper, he turned to steal their momentum. Leaving the ground again he took himself back instead of skyward. His clone reemerged to leave its footing in a dash swinging a punch. It chased Gohan's movements tossing a maelstrom. The impact of their separating only to meet again spooked clouds torn apart at the dispute.

It didn't take Mary long to find her. She arrived at the front of a crucified Selina.

"Jesus," she muttered.

She went to work. The right tool probed Selina's status, piercing her skin, reading vitals or the less important. Taking her with her not a moment was wasted. Mary could fly quicker than the cave's falling into itself. Rubble buried whatever happened in secret.

Gohan arched a fist. It fell like a wrecking ball into his opponent's scalp to crease it in. Forced to its knees broke more of what was solid beneath them. Gohan's next blow stopped as a right between the eyes. His clone dug across the ice into a nastier tumble caught by the mountain in its way. An instantly placed knee into its gut, Gohan's popping in from nowhere drove it through rock with punches numbering in the hundreds. They erupted into a valley as he ended his blitz. It swung a fist only to catch his counter across its jaw. Thrown into something else it's false sanity was almost lost. Bursting free of a rocky grave it touched the spots he drilled into drooling at the mouth. Its quiver didn't cease and couldn't.

"Why? WHY CAN'T I HIT YOU?!" it yelled in frustation.

"I'm guessing I burned away the piece that controls your motor functions," Gohan said.

He was calm. He was on fire. He didn't budge an inch.

"I'll give your creator this much. They have a basic grasp of my sensory abilities. I had no clue where you were at first."

Some ways back from his attack run he balled a fist.

"My dad taught me to focus. Every sentient life form has a signature no matter how faint. I got so good at feeling only what I needed to I could pinpoint someone half way around the world."

What little hair he had drooped losing its luster. His eyes shifted in tone and tint. The fire smothering him snuffed out.

"Y-You're lying! You couldn't beat the Androids! You can't beat me!"

"— I guess it's good I've had a few years to improve," Gohan said keeping his distance. He smiled confidently. "I won't lie. You're well built. Even doubted myself for a minute there. I can't let you walk away from this. Tell me who made you and why while you can."

Off the deep end could never describe its snapping a dislodged component back into its torso. It left its footing in a dash that tore through the air's being so cold it could freeze on the spot.

"Shut up! SHUT UP!" it ranted. Opening its palms released a barrage to level the canyon lifting everything into powder. Its target flew above the chaos so it locked on his ascent.

"Got you!" it glared like a frothing lunatic. Focused beams hit the image of Gohan's swiftness. He returned with a fierce upper to its lower body bringing it from its feet and bulging its eyes from their sockets. His airborne follow up knocked it through waiting glaciers. It's back found the ice as it slid to a halt yards from the three it crushed. Self-repair units died with its arrogance. Gohan's boast wasn't just hot air. He instantly stopped by its feeling the hollow of its chest as the source it used was gone. Glancing to shattered pieces of a generator it could do very little to stop his burning what remained of it. An intensity in his hand fizzled out. He glanced with pity. Jumping into a frenzy of attacks he leaned from, it tried desperately to land anything.

"Dodge all you want! I'll hit you eventually!" it claimed.

Gohan's lift over its next swing into a spin he brought the side of his hand into the back of its neck. Power poured form the palm it turned. Gohan surpassed it to snatch at its ankle swinging it up then down to bash its skull into the ice. He dropped an elbow into its back knocking the spark from facial wires tearing under the pressure.

"I told you it's over. You have one more chance to end this," he said already up. It pushed its nose and chest from the ground, turning its head to see him. Its next idea pleased in that it would do more harm than good.

"Hear that beep, Son Gohan?" it sneered. "That's the thermonuclear response to my not caring."

Gohan, brow furrowed and open mouthed, let it finish, making no sudden moves. Its skin glowing like someone carved his likeness from shards of a dwarf star brought him no pleasure.

"What are you doing?" he said. It stood at his backing up.

"They'll blame you for this freak!" it said at least receiving some semblance of his horror. He could stand there and think over consequences—or he could act.

["— of Son Gohan. Live footage of an encounter with what appears to be a doppleganger preparing a response of some kind. Okay now we're seeing it folks. He's taking it into the air with him. He's flying up. He's flying straight up with it, and—oh my God—"]

Mary stayed glued to one of the biggest screens she would ever lay eyes on. As she was seated Selina ignored her aching. They watched particles nearing orbit blow up, seeping for all sides, meter by meter, then snatched back into the blast. There was no protecting him from it. Mary stepped closer to the monitor like it would change the outcome.

"Tell me he can survive something like that," she said.

Selina propped her hands on a console dash not yet gazing from it. She pecked digital keys to project stats.

"It took out the nearest satellites," she said attentive to the readings. Inside the bunker's main hub was like being inside a vacuum chamber at NASA. Too much tech and a chill to it all that wasn't the homeliest.

"Is he?" Selina stopped herself.

"No." Mary shook her head. "To hell with that."

She turned the meaning she kept to herself as Selina rose. She followed but she wouldn't join her climb into a vehicle's opened cockpit.

"Rest up. He'd want you to," she said with urgency.

"Just bring him back," Selina pleaded. "Please."

She didn't shy from owning up to her concern. The shield port lowered to seal Mary's only willing to believe what she'd see with her own eyes. Stepping from its revving up, Selina glanced to a tunnel barrier pulling apart. One able pilot and rear thrusters making too much noise, she watched it turn in place above stilts folding into the sides and head. Like a bat out of hell an apt phrase it launched from the secret space doubling as its hangar.

Nothing carried his moving so little or not at all. Hair follicles and skin flakes a tiny, floating debris, the corpse twitched. A finger first then his head leaning back because he could register what was left of him. The sun like a vibrant sphere in the distance stayed silent. He woke to black. In his periphery the world was still there. He was in motion and it wasn't his will. Entering its atmosphere and compressing the air so much he became extremely hot. There was the planet's want to disintegrate an object that it couldn't rid itself of. He fell, piercing cloud cover, debris from cleared up, nuclear fallout somehow finding its way back. The frozen tundra a spec initially he knew he'd hit it hard. He tried at moving again but couldn't. It was fate. There was a shriek to his fall with the pace picking up as the altitude decreased. The spec that was a landmass growing bigger and bigger. He met it scalp first. If tectonic plates stopped movement centuries ago they shifted again. Surviving the impact, he felt more for the environment. There he stayed, on his back. Chunky snowflakes pelting him couldn't stop the ring in his ears.

"Gohan!"

She hurried like nobody's business. An as durable Mary could shrug off the harsh weather when she ran. He was almost buried beneath the snow. His light grin somewhat eerie she pushed slush from his face, lightly smacking color into his cheeks.

"Wake up," she said. "You're alive. You hear me? Wake up!"

Heavy eyes opened to see her. Hypothermia not able to stake its claim he felt a numbness unrelated to it.

"Do me a favor. Say Shazam. I could really use—the jolt," he coughed.

Mary had to chuckle, brushing his eyebrows and stroking the wetness from his hair.

"You're insane, you know that?" she fussed.

"I tried peace," he said. "It wouldn't hear me out."

Mary glanced to his uniform, mostly ruined. He was up and able with her assistance. She smiled, as any friend would, eyes closed, wanting to hear his voice at its strongest. She watched the torso under her gloves exposed through rips in his garb. Moving her hand from his side to help restore his comfort they walked but not too quickly.

"Take your time," she said making sure he did.

"I'm all right. Maybe a bit winded," he said. "Nothing, Mary. Not one hint to go on. We're no closer to finding out who made that thing. It took any last words with it."

"So we keep our ears to the ground," she said. "Harp on being alive."

Boarding their vessel Gohan happily plopped into the co-pilot's seat. Flying the aircraft, flying period, was the last thing on an addled mind only wanting a reprieve. Mary chose to ignore his blaming himself as she maneuvered their way back. If it could the setting would jump for joy at not being mangled to a pulp anymore. It returned to the wind blowing, snow falling vista it once was.

*Chapter 4*: Chapter 4

Shirtless, unnatural genes replenished his strength much faster than any medicine could. A much needed moment his to take, Gohan took it.

"Selina," he uttered.

"Right here," rang a pleasant voice. The fuzz of his vision wouldn't let him see her bruises, the cast over her hand, and the same bloodied clothes she had on for hours.

"I'm so sorry." He cleared his throat like he thought she didn't hear him. Selina wouldn't fret a tablet. She gave the numbers one more once over, her seat on his bed's side, and hand resting in his.

"Shut up, idiot," she said not one for mush. He had her undivided anyway.

"Where am I?" he asked.

"The bunker. Which isn't a total waste, surprisingly," she said glancing for what boxed them in. It felt less like a hospital and more like a morgue. Such thoughts weren't appealing. She switched gears. "It's just us."

"Good," he said. It was a strain to sit up but he had to. He fingered the bandages wrapping his torso. Even that was a pain. Forced to stay put he could at least see her. "Was any —"

"No one was hurt," she said.

Gohan looked to her stare first, her free hand next, as he'd yet to let it go. Rubbing his thumb over her swollen knuckle caused a smile.

"About what you said the other day. I wouldn't mind it. If you're still interested."

A trying grin, a lifting eyebrow, Selina thought little of his being frank.

"And it only took an eternity," she teased.

She shook her head. He shrugged.

"I'm not the sharpest when it comes to stuff like that," he said.

"You don't say," she said taking nothing seriously.

"Hear me out," he tried again. Selina pulled her chair closer, squeezing his hand as she glanced to it.

"You're not that kind of woman. The settling down type. I get it," he said.

"Go on," she said, curious. The way she watched him, if she watched him, left him humbled, a tad unsure.

"A nuclear device blowing up in your face makes you think. People like me, Deadpool, we aren't just temporal mistakes. I don't care what anyone says. If we're gonna do this thing, this mission, this, whatever, I'd prefer if you were part of it."

Selina ran a hand through her shorter hair, taking a deep breath.

"The hero bit is your thing, handsome," she said.

"Save one life, save the world," he differed. "It was something dad used to say. Remember I mentioned Piccolo? He worded it differently but the message stuck. It's not about being a hero. I'm not. I've known people who were everything but. So have you."

Selina offered him eye contact, unbroken. She stood to amble. Pulling his head to her stomach she played with his hair, watching it, and waiting. Helping him lift his gaze it was his mouth she focused on. Quiet enough to hear a pin drop she took her chance. Holding him in place she leaned her lips to his if only for a second. Hers were softer, moist, something he needed to feel no matter how briefly. Nose tips nearly touching wasn't the déjà vu he expected. It was her swinging a leg over his lap as softly as she could. He was still sore but there she was, straddling him. Neither had any qualms with it.

"Okay," she agreed quietly. "Okay."

Gohan offered his thanks even if he said nothing. Selina kept her hands to herself even if her ogle washed all over his pecs. Sitting in silence, EKG machine beeps they finally listened to aside being in each other's company was all either wanted.

By the end of the three following weeks...

Cemetery grounds were the bleakest part of that afternoon. Standing before one marked grave she needed the company. She was thankful for it. Water droplets wet her hair and the lapels of her peacoat until he walked up with an umbrella. She offered a grin for the cleaned and pressed suit she paid for, if only to see him in it. Her aroma tickling his senses their arms laced.

"You didn't have to stay," she said.

"You asked me to," he said. Not taking her hand from where it rested she grinned faintly. They read engravings as he politely waited for her to speak.

"It's not simpler," she confessed. Her father's gravestone kept a pot for fresh flowers. She crouched to replace black tulips. "Could you believe he used to be a criminal?"

"Reformed?" he said.

"There's no such thing," she said. "Your nightmares never end, do they?"

"— No," he said, taken aback. "But whatever they mean can be less distracting after a while."

"Something else we can't change?" she smiled. Wind rustled branches and shoved the folds of their jackets. He disliked her misery. She took his hand to lead him. The walk did more for her. Precipitation lightened with no cause to.

"How was the pie?" she asked.

"Great! The best blueberry dish I've ever had. You can add master baker to your resume," he said.

"That's the plan, you know. Fatten you up and go in for the kill."

"Tsk. My mind went to a much darker place."

"I'll bet."

Gotham Cemetery's lawn was manicured up and to the closest tree. They stopped to turn in place yards from her father's grave.

"Forget A.R.G.U.S.," she said. "We should start an only child's club. The more screwed up the entrant the better."

"I don't think we need the heat," he joked.

Selina was an inch or two shorter. He thought her stature served her well. She stepped into his bubble to torture him straitening his tie and brushing lint that wasn't there from it. She smelled of berries freshly picked, or a similar perfume, his senses able to track her no matter the distance between them. Her touch slid along his chest to his belt buckle.

"Gohan," she whispered close to the point her fresh breath brushed his chin.

Alone, at temptation's mercy, he moved his hand to cup the back of her head protecting it with his knuckles. He didn't groan against her mouth. She felt the blood course through her, hot and thick, as her skin bloomed under his caress. There were no killers wanting them dead. No egos and no personas to hide behind. A fire ignited inside as their bodies moved together, firm curves against unyielding steel. Selina inhaled frantically but it wasn't enough. They stopped as abruptly as they started. Catching his breath, Gohan looked as if he committed a crime. He froze until she swept the locks falling over his brow. His fingers found a place to rest on her lips. Coarse fingers she gently took hold of. She pressed his palm to her cheek and held it there.

"My place. Tonight. We'll pick up where we left off," she said.

It sounded like a command. Gohan was slower to grin.

"Who could say no to that?" he said testing her restraint with boyish charm. Selina remembered where they were before he could. Grabbing his hand to pull him took her back to moments. Times, like then, that were easier.

. . . .

Her eyes flicking open took her from bad dreams to a penthouse. An unmade mattress. Nothing to cover her but the finest satin. The hairs of her neck stood on end. If she squeezed her sheets any tighter they would have crumpled to bits. Her head jerked left. He was next to her, sleeping soundly, as she hoped. She then glanced to one of her cats curled at his feet, its bright eyes fixed as if it were keeping watch.

"Momma sure can knock 'em dead," she beamed, wanting a repeat of earlier fun. She left her bed not minding the dark, stretching, forgetting her nudity but the room's air conditioner let her know. Warmth against her skin, her catsuit folded over a chair by her wardrobe, she picked it up to step into its legs. She paused ever so often to make sure he didn't wake. Pulling at one of her gloves she eyed the glint of her claws, fine with their polish.

"Don't give me that look," she smirked seeing her cat as it saw her. Her patio deck calling its door was closed. Leaving it the cold hitting her followed her pounce onto a railing. Beneath her was a city. Surrounding that, a young night with plenty to do. Revealing a pocket tool she followed its screen curious of a location. The ping of her target not moving it was a good lead to act on.

"All too easy."

She sprung from her post, upturned into a twirling dive for the streets, agile as she was limber.

Armed, moving stolen goods from a storehouse someone else owned one of a dozen conducted harvesting on the second tier. Standing freakishly tall he was a sweaty albino and not the brightest bulb in any bunch.

"Everything's ready to move, Vinny," one of his enforcers said.

"Nice. Wrap it up. We ain't got all night," Vinny grumped. His attitude stank more than his track suit. The sound of shattering glass wasn't part of his plan. They snapped looks to the skylight. A figure plopped gracefully hard on a nearby table. A lamp upset by the ruckus swung back and forth into the shadows it highlighted one layer coating her; the silky black of her bulletproof mesh.

"Meow," she said popping one set of her claws. Her first opponent drew a pistol and opened fire. She ducked the shot and was on top of him by the second. The gun knocked from his hand her knuckles hit the spot by his brow. Vinny had seen enough. Commotion and gunfire alerted the rest of his men. As a mass they came charging up the stairs, pistols cocked and chambered.

"Light the bitch up!" he yelled. Catwoman tossed an unconscious thug knocking him flat.

"Park it, Vinny!" she barked so loud he froze.

Flipping over a crowd on the stairs like an unnatural gymnast they couldn't get a bead on her, firing wildly above their heads. State of the art suction in her gear let her spring from the ceiling to an adjacent wall. Her drop toward them like a mortar she tossed silver marbles, linked as a net, ignoring the shrieks of grown men shocked by over thirty-thousand volts. Grappling another she turned to slash his partner's cheek lifting her foot into the first's jaw before a cartwheel, back on her feet before they hit the floor. His men down and out Vinny had no one left to exploit.

"All the time it took to put this together. Y-You think I'm lettin' some skank in a catsuit bust it up in a few seconds?!"

"Even funnier is how simple it was," she said. Vinny charged with a crowbar she let him scoop up. His swings were wild, uncoordinated, easy to dodge without her penchant for martial arts. Experience giving her the edge he used the moment to draw a handgun. As he whirled it forward her whip snapped it loose. His hand burning like he touched a hot oven her next spin against his mouth launched him clear across the room. His body ripped through a half-shut closet. She figured the shock would knock him out and did. But she wasn't there for him. Something else crashed the party. A brighter phenomenon felt a tickle as glass and steel dropped from his head and shoulders. In his hand, a sniper's windpipe, he brought the unconscious with him and effortlessly tossed him aside.

"You missed one," he said. Her task on hold she placed hands on her hips. He ignored her playing the tempter.

"Checking up on me? I'm touched," she said. In the moment, she was Catwoman, and as such she circled him.

"He must be Vinny," he noticed.

"He was whatever is lower than low level. Barely a pawn," she said. "I was interested in where around Mandripoor these crates were headed. Maybe they'll lead us to Cross."

Gohan took stock of her handiwork, shaking his head. "Why make the mess?" he asked.

"Why throw Solomon Grundy across the Atlantic?" she retorted, a bit irritated with his tone. He dropped it, aiding her in lacing arms and feet. The stench of urine lessened the area's appeal. It would bother them if they weren't so used to it.

"You're convinced," she said.

"That we're walking into a trap? Pretty much," he said.

"Nerves, lover," she said taking it in stride. Selina turned, pressing her back to his chest, her plump bottom to his crotch. Slowly wiggling her hips egged on his body as he tried to focus. She arched. "Mmmm. There he is."

Seductive aside her tone was calm as it could be cold. Too calm considering where they found themselves. She stepped from him as she had her fun. The stronger of the two Gohan set something heavier than usual down. Opening it to rummage, he found nothing. Selina watched whatever he did. She tossed him a favor. Catching it he scanned one portrait, and the facts.

"Cross's obituary. He's been legally dead for months. Not public knowledge, of course. It explains his or its or whatever's desire for a new body. I'm guessing what we fought was phase one."

"Probably," he said looking up. "Who would be a deceased scientist's go to?"

"I'll tell you this much. Mandripoor is smoke and mirrors. There's nothing there for us." Her assurance stopped on the skylight she ruined. Selina tapped the device nestled in her cowl as it shook. Her locking eyes with him was confirmation that he heard what she heard.

["Catwoman."]

"Go ahead," she said.

["If the kid isn't with you, find him. I've got something you both need to see."]

"— Give me five minutes," she replied.

Coiling her whip to clip it to her waist it took another hand raise. Firing the hook under wrist attached to the spot she broke it drew back in to snatch her away.

. . . .

With its VTOL capability, turbojet engines, it could surpass Mach 3 when tested. They only thanked its heating unit because the cold beyond pierced. He was sick of cold.

"Team Alpha. Take up a position on the nunatak's southern end," he said.

["Copy that. Hey Selina. You all right flying that thing?"]

"Got her purring like a kitten," Selina said eyeing complex controls like they were elementary.

"Keep her steady," Gohan said. She'd see his taking a seat next to her, but gave her attention to a protruding switch, a radar able to digitize code emitting pulses, detecting or measuring a point after being reflected. They neared a mountainous compound, and the objective.

"You're focused for once," he said.

Selina glanced to a reserve's image. A shining bar reached and flickered. "Meaning?"

"I've never seen you so quiet," he said. She offered her smile for the thought.

"Well look at you. Mister take charge," she poked fun. "Hip to your team's preop habits."

His sigh was his chuckle. "It's important that I play this one close to the chest. There. Happy?"

"Thrilled," she said.

"— The Gunnbjørn Fjeld. Winds at thirty miles per hour. Zero degrees Fahrenheit," Gohan read from his console. "Can your suit withstand the cold?"

"It's not just for show. Fully insulated when zipped up," Selina bragged. "Anymore unnecessary concerns, precious?"

Gohan relaxed his spine, the co-pilot's chair aiding calm before conflict. Their banter ceased when Selina took their transportation amid nothingness setting it down on a loose surface lifting into wisps. Unforgiving air bellowing. Their vessel dropped a retractable ladder bay. Leaving it, Selina put on professional. Gohan lead the way seeing snowflakes bounce from her gear like they were directed to.

"Team Alpha. Status?" he said.

["Thirty yards from fun in the sun, boo boo. How many derps you count?"]

"Two sets of four guarding both entrances. Roughly fifty or so indoors. While we're outside, keep it quiet, Wade. They aren't alerted to our presence yet."

["That's what the cam viruses are for. Whaddya' say when we're done here we take the girls out for a nightcap? It's been ages since I played hide the rainbow rope."]

Nearing their point of entry, they stopped.

"Catwoman," Gohan cued.

Selina didn't miss a beat. She violated four before they could react. Gohan walked close but gave her space. Demonstrating mercy, their weapons missing barrels, she left them sprawled out and beaten. Gohan could feel the shudder of their organs.

"Synthetic hybrids. Someone's got a flair for the dramatic," he said. "Remember the ninja a while back? Their leader was like this."

Selina let him have a moment.

"Living but not alive," he finished. "That doesn't sound less nuts the more I say it."

Gazes set on the work. He was ready.

"Deadpool. Enter through the roof. Use the air ducts for recon. You spot anything we didn't, tell us. Mary Marvel, go in loud when we hear back."

["You mean he'll shut his trap for a bit? You don't have to tell me twice."]

The docking bay was bedlam. Four unleashed in defense of themselves and each other. Deadpool, quickly over top his foes, stylish as his katana spun to route any advance. Tugging at a boot knife he tossed it watching it set between his target's visor.

"Chicka, chicka, check the technique! BAM!" he dispersed as a red puff. The airborne Mary Marvel used her immense strength to lob a crate sweeping away the opposition. Beams ricocheted from the appeal of her invulnerable body putting no dents in her confidence. Electricity left her eyes in jagged streaks first, then the hands she thrust forward to hurl lightning from her fingertips. Gohan carried his aggressors into inactive consoles rending them to pieces. His effort singed a row of eight as Catwoman's running up a wall ended with her wrapping her thighs around a neck. She tossed bolas to stop two advancing, digging her claws into a helmet, twisting upside down to lob her victim across the floor. They all met in its center. Playing leader, Gohan focused on more than one passage.

"Mary. The control room is up there," he said pointing the way. He and Selina watched Mary float with Wade, and his motor mouth, toward their task.

"What?" Selina said aware of his tension.

"This was too easy," Gohan said looking around to find evidence to the contrary. Not a moment to waste he gave a mix of earthen and metal architecture scrutiny. She followed suit toward a smashed in wall, a strange residue wetting it. His fingertip gleamed to release a line cutting their way in. When the beam fizzled out he dug his hands into cracks ripping away too much weight, its slide against steel like a death shriek. Behind its mass was a path.

"It leads deeper into the mountain," she said.

"Yeah," he agreed. "No problems through here. No—anything. You up for it?"

"Always," she said.

A communicator too small to see but big enough to feel, he pressed it.

"Mary. Catwoman and I found something. A tunnel. We're gonna see where it leads. Will you be all right without us?"

["Affirmative. We have the place covered. If need be, we'll come running."]

"Much appreciated," he said not discounting the help. They calmed the rile of their nerves. All things considered that was easier said than done.

A short journey ended within a room in which objects and people were simulations. It sustained itself, a combination of transported matter, replicated matter, tractor beams and shaped forced fields.

"You don't see something like this everyday," Gohan spoke.

Selina's investigating took her to the chamber's opposite end. Their surroundings were pitch black at times, or well lit, yet never both.

"Stating the obvious works for me," she said facing him in the distance.

He didn't speak his answer and the frigid box contained their dialogue, interrupted at the floor's opening. Rising from a slot was a pole, a curved component with no board holding buttons to press or a UI to pick apart. They approached but stopped when it projected the outline of what could have been a man or a woman or something else entirely. Whoever they were a blackened cloak hid all features but not their broad shoulders. The hologram lingered, no static to disorient and no issue with its transmission.

["Son Gohan . . a dead world's last . . now lost."]

Gohan replied with confusion. The projection followed his careful moving via rotation. Selina remained where she stood.

"Gohan?" she said.

Gohan paused just before the confidence of another. "We've established you know who I am. Who are you?"

["No one relevant . . Not here . . You really are your father's seed . . The last I saw of you, you were but a babe . . barely free of your mother's coddling . . It seems Miss Kyle provides your succor now . . Is she the only one?"]

At the mention of her name Selina moved to Gohan's front. "Miss Kyle is in no mood for monologues. Cut to the chase."

She and Gohan received a distorted laugh.

["Quite the asset you have there . . Valuable . . A talented pet . . That is our lot in life now isn't it? . . Herding pets . . I have to say your father was a more impressive adversary . . Which brings us to the purpose of this chamber."]

Gohan heard what Selina ignored; a seeping into the room not seen nor felt.

["Saiyans have always been hard to kill . . My journey here was different from yours but as I evolved I learned to harness what I inherited . . I offer a gift . . Something to remind you that you can be like the cattle."]

The room's only door slid closed stopping Gohan's rush to it. He threw a straightened fist and registered the impact as pain. He often took it for granted.

"What's happening to me?" he asked no one. The chamber's tint took on a blinding white hot. Basking him in it he felt something else before Selina could warn him. It took one shot. Looking to his chest he found the gaping hole ripped through it. He hadn't dodged the shot and barely heard it, dropping to his knees, bleeding profusely. Selina caught his slump so his head wouldn't hit the floor.

"Gohan!" she gasped. "Team Alpha! Regroup on my position!"

["What's the matter?"]

"Just get here, Mary! Now! Gohan is down!" she panicked cradling him as he coughed up the blood seeping into his lungs. "You'll die for this!"

["Perhaps . . There's more you've yet to discover of your past, Son Gohan . . Don't sully your worth any longer . . I don't desire your end but I will see to it if you force my hand."]

Their aggressor's hologram blinked from sight. Selina on the verge of losing it held it together. She ripped away one of her gloves using it to put pressure on his wound. The force banging on the chamber exit getting louder it began to fold. A damaging blow snapped it free. Mary Marvel and Deadpool walked into what would perturb anyone who cared. Selina focused and a cautious Mary offered to help.

"DON'T TOUCH HIM!" she hollered, possessive.

Mary glanced to Wade's shrug. Selina relaxed, not moving, doubting whether she should allow Mary to gather the unconscious Gohan into her arms.

"Hang on, sweetie," Mary did anyway, stepping into the air. She flew off first. The shine of the room's floodlights, eventually, faded to black.

. . . .

She slipped into a t-shirt, letting it drop to the height of denim. Her solitude let her breathe easy. The packing of a duffel bag proceeded. She pulled a baseball cap just above her brow, closing a locker, knowing who would slink into the corner of her eye.

"This is quite the setup. I would ask why it's so important."

Waller leaned against the room's entrance.

"And I said you could visit the bunker. Not ask what you already know," Selina said dryly. She didn't look to her as she zipped her bag.

"The kid's taking that last mission pretty hard. Says he can't believe we have technology that works better than senzu," Waller said.

Selina hated her role. Her agreeing to it at all even more. "Your higher ups still won't admit they were wrong. Inconvenient? Or is it just too compromising?"

She let her bag hang by the strap on her shoulder.

"A full pardon, Selina." Waller let the words, and what they meant, linger. "All this has got to be worth the blank slate."

She let her gaze suggest she knew more than she let on.

"— Find another sucker. As a matter of fact, I'm done. I'm out," Selina repeated. "You can watch us. Watch us to your little heart's content. They don't deserve him. You don't."

To an extent she had pull with the Director. The were both their own women. Mutual respect disregarded the things about each other they didn't like. Before her leave, Selina stopped, just to make sure she looked her in the eye. Nothing else said Waller took her sweet time to let her pass.

. . . .

It was the beat that could get to those only there to brown nose. Standing around. Waiting on some with disposable income to come and flaunt. Noise and blinding flashes and one voice after another saying something or nothing. Reporters tried at not being invisible to donators, a few politicians and anyone else walking a burgundy carpet. The event's organizer arrived in grand fashion. His cape thick it swayed from broad shoulders and the L-shaped shield it was fastened to. His hover blew dust from the ground, he kept it there to spin in place, faster than fast. When he stopped his uniform was gone and a clean-cut appearance remained. Where it went was anyone's guess as the tuxedo he wore was nothing akin to it.

"And they say I don't have the best superhero landing," he said, cocky, good-looking, and knowing it.

Joined by twin runway models stuffed in cocktail dresses he squeezed one of their bottoms and mugged as he did. After the riff raff came another player. She stepped from a limo tinted nothing like her side-parted, glossy haircut and too tight gown. Flawless skin was the draw second only to her figure. On her arm, a professional athlete, obnoxiously proud of the vixen he scored a date with. When allowed the rest of a swarm bunched together to join them all inside.

"Suicide Slums is a dump. We can all agree. For any concept to perform at the capacity desired it requires a foundation setbacks can't break. Through tireless effort, the will of Atlas and, a tenacity that always got me into trouble with Lex," he said pausing to receive a few chuckles. "You're here to see it. I'm here to show it."

He moved aside on his platform as it was time for the gala's highlight. Those watching in awe couldn't touch it as it lit that floor of the building by itself. The hired orchestra hit harder notes of a classic. Blueprints for rundown neighborhoods became sleek designs, formed to resemble nicer parts of Metropolis. He gestured at the rotating layouts for each. Their claps weren't for a decent cause but their host turned a glance to an ex-girlfriend. And her flirting with her date.

"Now. Drink up. Chit chat. We're here to celebrate so get to it!" he said clapping with his audience. He soon left the stage and the spotlight.

"Selina Kyle," he said catching her by herself.

"— Connor," Selina turned to say, offering a hand he quickly took.

"Stunning as usual. I've been meaning to ask. Is that Drew Clemens?" Connor said. Selina lusted after the one he spoke of.

"First round draft pick Drew Clemens. Entertainment for the now, and the later, if he's lucky," she said. Connor looked to her guile. He gave her points for being convincing.

"I don't see you on this side of the pond that much anymore. Thanks for the donation," he said. "Believe me when I say it'll be worthwhile."

"Oh?" she said. "Nothing more to it?"

"Why would there be?" he said. "Since we're on the subject. I heard you're having issues with Waller."

"Aren't we all?" Selina asked.

Connor waved at supporters, forgetting he had to. The ballroom's decor and everyone smothering it remained oblivious.

"The gang and I wouldn't mind a chat with your friend," he said returning his attention. "We think he might know J'onn's whereabouts."

Selina smirked glancing around the room for no reason. "Is this about J'onn, or my friend?" she said.

Connor flashed a winning smile. He though his slicked back, dark hair, tapering off as a spit curl, and striking blue eyes would work. It didn't. He took a sip from the glass of wine he stopped a waiter to reach for.

"The guy's popular. You watch the news. You read it," he grinned. "We can't go a day without his gracing the headlines. If not A.R.G.U.S., if not one of us, then what is he?"

"— You know Connor," she began casually. "every time we speak I have to remind myself. Somewhere, out there, in another universe, on another Earth, there's a Superman who isn't an egomaniacal test-tube baby raised by a lunatic. I say, "Selina, remember, he is who he is. He sort of can't help it." When I do that, honestly, life is a little less depressing. Just a little."

Connor had no comeback. He could only smirk. The irony didn't bother him.

"Never change, Kyle," he said. "A toast to your health. And mine. The people of tomorrow."

He raised his glass on the walk from her ready to mingle with other guests. Selina returned to her seat. Her date and his swooning. Of all the places she wanted to be, sitting there, behind a mask of snobbery was the least desirable.

*Chapter 5*: Chapter 5

His reflection didn't help with a wandering mind. The lights, the bathroom mirror, both revealed his hard body and not the secrets of life. Several minutes passed before he rubbed his jawline knowing it could take him centuries to grow a beard. Genetics.

"Get your ass back in here," she called out.

"Say pretty please," he said loud enough for her to hear. He washed his hands, amused, looking one more time to his face. He opened a door easy to close it behind him. Splendor was her beneath her bed sheets. On her side, a hand propping the lean of her head she took her time to figure out his upper body, and then his boxers. Climbing beside her he slid his legs under the covers. Her fingers wandered the contours of his torso and her eyes stayed on her favorite part.

"Much better," she said.

"You sure?" he said. "I'm no NFL superstar."

"Thankfully," she said making him laugh. Gohan took her hand into his and Selina slid closer, quick to peck his shoulder.

"Break down the agenda," she said closing her eyes.

"Everyone seems to know what that is better than I do," he said. "You, A.R.G.U.S., Superman? Am I in trouble?"

He felt the slide of her thigh over his.

"Here's what. I didn't call you over for an interrogation. Though the thought of cuffing you to the bed frame crossed my mind," she said.

Selina pulled at his chin planting the caress of her mouth to his. She admired what she kissed. Gohan wanted to pry.

"It has been fun," he said. "even if the only time I hear from you now is when you want, well, this."

Her expression changed. He expected it to.

"So you're just the occasional plaything? That's news to me," she said no longer cheerful.

"Did I say that?" he replied cautiously.

Selina sat up dragging the sheets to cover her plentiful chest. She stared off. The next to rise he noticed her eyes weren't meeting his.

"What?" he said.

She left the bed taking from it what wrapped her. He watched as she stood before her patio door, her gaping at the rain beyond it.

"This, to me, is one of a few breaks I've had all year. When I see you it's to see you. To spend time. So what if we're usually doing this. I'm not the dinner and a movie type," she said convinced of her opinion.

It was bothersome. His morality. His simpler tastes. Gohan stood to join her. Selina turned letting him stroke her cheek.

"It's not your norm," he said. "I've been around you long enough to know when the tune has changed. What's going on?"

His cell phone beckoned vibrating on her dresser but not too noisily. Her attitude didn't sweeten from its sour. She said nothing, shifting past him. He trailed her entering the bathroom and her shutting the door in his face. The sudden antagonism and what angle to attack it from was his challenge. He slipped his phone into his hand seeing that it wasn't a call. It was a heads-up.

Her pumps were three inches, as dark as her pantsuit. They clacked against porcelain from an elevator only she could summon. Trip beams sprung from two walls in all directions for exactly three seconds. She moved without a lull not setting off a hallway to stop before the only doors at its end. Tapping a pad she bent over so it could scan a pupil. Her role as a favored servant recognized it let her through. Sitting among bubbling vats and computational posts was the answer: a synthetic hybrid worth the time and resources. It stabbed a needle into the nearest vein. Its motor functions charged, its processor thumped a little quieter and its handler calculated her approach.

"Observe him. Discreetly," she said. "That was your predecessor's instructions."

It dropped the item it abused to take a stand.

"001 was an idiot. He played with fire and got what he deserved."

Its handler wasn't amused. "Would you like to explain how 002 escaped?" she asked as her brow creased.

Whether it cared was irrelevant. "I'm not some dribbling defect's babysitter! It escaped because your operation isn't as airtight as you think."

She backed a bit to watch its features, then the deadpan in its eyes. She let the silence sit.

"Observe his habits and don't engage him, 003. Those are his orders," she said coldly. "I've made myself clear, yes?"

It possessed no shame as it ogled her hips. She was young and agreeable. Probably a fun lay if it could feel pleasure and she was willing. Only the death of the man it was made in the image of could bring it greater joy.

"Zazel's will be done," it said dropping to one knee. A smile curving her full lips, and a tool at her front, she knew one thing was certain. Life and death schemes satisfied like nothing else.

. . . .

A foul stench reached for the air. Run down, notoriously dangerous, and home to the less fortunate Gotham's East End harbored gangs intermixed with decent people struggling to get by. It attracted the likes of two. Standing on an apartment building, preferring incognito, he waited patiently when she swung in like a wrecking ball. She dropped to her feet and claw tips as they gazed at a neon sign. A symbol denoting the location they needed to enter across a crowded street.

"— I didn't think you'd bother," Gohan said well aware of their spat.

"Curiosity and all that," Catwoman said using a ledge as her perch.

"Puppy dog eyes don't work anymore?"

"Not when that puppy's in the dog house. Behave and I'll throw you a bone. Ugh. Dog puns."

Gohan smirked for Selina's cunning. Her first love was risk, to the point of obsession.

"I never mention it," he said not shy about looking. "Did you make your suit by hand?"

"Flaunt the form, if you've got it," she said. "Stop looking at my butt and focus."

She glanced to him for no answer. Just his chuckle.

"Another one of Waller's errands?" she asked.

"Maybe," he said. "I'd rather deal with it now. Whatever it is."

"Then Axel Jenkins is our man," she said looking to their destination. "He practically worships the ground you walk on."

"I don't ask to be liked."

"Well you are, so get over it."

She shot him another glance.

"Going in through the back is our best bet," she said.

"I'm wearing bright colors," he said.

"Which is why it was smart of you to wait until sundown," she said.

Feeling him grab her arm they slowly took to the sky. Car horns honking, civilians were oblivious as they were too high up. Aces & Clubs, the structure's title over its front doors flashed with dazzling effect. Patrons filed to and from it as a talkative wave. As he set her down Selina knocked on the back entrance. A port shot open revealing a tired glare.

"What the hell do you want?"

"— A real charmer, this one," she said. "Axel Jenkins. He here?"

"Let 'em through, Joe," came a second voice, more authoritative. The door opened revealing his height and bulky frame. Known to always wear a wool fisherman's cap the graphic t-shirt was recent, an image of Gohan in action near its top, obscured marginally by a dusted trench coat. The bristles of his beard moved with his smile. He pushed his employee aside.

"Excuse the rude greeting, Miss Kyle," he said, a loud speaker. "Joe's a borderline numbskull. Let's get you's two outta the cold!"

Gohan shook his hand. He followed Selina's thinking the whole thing silly. Retro jazz blared indoors, dulled by the closing of a weighty barrier, coupled with the click of its locks.

"It's good seeing 'ya again, Gohan!" Axel said. "Would'a closed the joint for the night if I knew."

Ecstatic, he watched for Gohan's friendliness.

"Sorry for the short notice," he said. "Wally asked about you."

"Tell him the next time he's in the city, drinks are on the house," Axel beamed. Seated by the edge of his desk clutter Catwoman stood at Gohan's side. "Ready?"

"As we'll ever be," she said. "Yours is the only spot in town with quick access to Bergen Street station."

"A damn shame if 'ya ask me," Axel sighed. "This place was here before and after it shut down. There's alotta history down there. Once you leave the office the basement door is in the kitchen. Should I call the cops?"

His calloused hands rested on his seat's arms. Trading glances his guests remained silent.

"That won't be necessary," Gohan said. "We'll make sure your bar doesn't incur any damage."

Axel stood extending a hand. He and Gohan exchanged warmth, and a nod.

"Let me leave first 'ta make sure no one's snoopin' around. When the coast is clear, you'll know."

He walked around his large worktable. Gohan stood at Selina's back.

"Your perfume's nice," he complimented.

She nudged his stomach. "Sweet talker."

Their eyes remained on the office exit. Axel returned with no words and a gesture.

Taking point Catwoman slinked making next to no noise. Emergency lighting cast the abandoned subway in a shade of carmine.

"Stay close," she said. "We have less room to maneuver down here."

A dusted husk, the nearby train was stationary after not being used for decades. Relieving her of it Gohan took point.

"Why down here?" he said watching the drip on its walls.

"Why not? Nowhere else would want it," she said.

Selina didn't rub her arms to warm the nip from her shiver. Gohan at her side the grunting of something large stopped them in their tracks.

"— It doesn't sound like it's in a talkative mood," he said.

"Of course it isn't," she said.

The problem was they're not seeing anything.

"He's definitely strong," he said.

"Know when to say when, handsome," she sighed.

A narrow passage served as his find. On the way through was stifling. They prepared in quiet, dust shaken from the ceiling as something was on the move with heavy steps. It was headed in their direction.

"I think we should —" Gohan said stopped by a force of nature nearly trampling him. The wall it leveled stood no chance. Its shout was unlike anything. Primal. Inhuman. Its face twisting with fury it threw its arms back and bellowed. Bloodshot eyes, glowing veins reached for its pupils with both setting on two. Snatching Selina with him Gohan took to the air, in search of the connecting tunnel. Finding what could work he thought on the fly.

"We keep him here!" he said, staying afloat, hoping Catwoman heard him.

Parrying a boulder, not a fist, he struck its jaw, rapid punches thrown from any angle into quicker blocks. Wrapping him with its fingers it ran forcing him into the side of a wall, thrusting its equally big foot into his gut to send him through it. Selina jumped for its back not yet digging claws into its neck. Avoiding its reach ideal she sprung from it. As she ducked Gohan launched overhead, aiming for its legs and sweeping to knock it up. It took his next barrage without a say in the matter. Bringing its palms together hurled him from its trajectory but not before any glass in the vicinity burst. The naked beast needed an out. When it jumped it could clear seven miles, easy. It tore open the street above.

"— That could've gone better," Gohan coughed, standing to his feet as Selina pulled him up. "Think they'll blame me for this too?"

"To hell with what they think," Selina said. It got his attention. Gohan smiled for the thought. As she offered hers he disappeared in the blink of an eye.

The car lights were annoying. As were the wails of those not expecting the sight. It strained to flex rippling muscle.

"Hey!" a sudden arrival said. "You wanna fight someone?! Fight me!"

Drawing its massive fist it forced a dangerous straight into Gohan's head. Instead of knocking his skull from his shoulders it felt something staying its punch. It looked to a tight hold on its hand. It tried to smash itself free. One gripped the other's arms. Gohan wasn't unaware of its piquing resilience. He jumped planting scuffed boots into its gut sending it away, stepping from a flip, airborne with a fist at the ready. It stopped its sliding to catch his next thrust grabbing him by the throat and slamming him through the road. A sweaty vice around his neck as large, imperfect fingers tried to choke the life from him. Its menacing cry next to his ears would make them bleed if he were lesser. He swung a crisp right into its jaw knocking it skyward and sprung after the blow, ramming its chest with a shoulder, driving it from anyone within range. It brought its elbow into his spine, over, and over, and over again. Arms wrapped around its waist, teeth grit he took the punishment before releasing the problem and letting himself stop to watch. He'd see it crash into a construction site, a mile from their last position, spinning to view his aircraft on standby.

["On your six!"]

Its return swift it swung a steel beam on its lunge. A quick blast cut it in two. What he wouldn't expect was it snapping a kick into his nose. It pulled at his leg as they dove toward the city. Distracted by the tremendous strike he shook it off. It didn't let his ankle go until it lobbed him through a rooftop. Gohan ruptured multiple floors in his drop. Stark screams, his body tearing through metal and concrete, it all filled his ears. Caving in the structure's foundation wasn't his choice.

Catwoman tapped several keys above a cockpit dash. She readied a retracted cannon to fire on it with conventional ammo. It swatted the bullet storm, snorting, grabbing the nearest weapon it could find. Digging its large tips into a parked car it drew it back to hurl it at the aircraft in a hurry. Her efficiency at maneuvering allowed Gohan's ship to avoid a ruined sedan. She saw Gohan's quick catch of it, sparing the blameless. The beast left street level without effort. Selina glimpsed its bound toward her position. She prepared to induce more of its mental strain and would've if not for Gohan's attempt. A second passed and he was close enough to touch, fingers spread toward his brow. Everything froze.

"Taiyōkeeeennnn!" he shouted shutting his eyes.

A star's brilliance left his hands to widen and the beast caught the brunt of it. Its vision was fire. Its eyes leaked as Gohan carried the wriggling powerhouse, a vapor cone popping beneath the tips of his boots. The beast continued its enraged motion until it lightened. Almost leaving the atmosphere frost formed on its grimace as its eyes grew heavier.

"Doiiyaaa!" Gohan hollered turning once to toss it with all his might. The beast veered off with no signs of slowing. Keeping an eye on it, he cupped hands, drawing both to his waist.

"— Kame—hameeee—" It was always a play at control. Too much would be overkill. Too little wouldn't end it. Pure light, most thought it seemed, growing between his palms and at his mercy he had nothing between him but air and opportunity. "Haaaaaa!"

Basked in its glow, like the clouds surrounding him, it burned the beast to a crisp. And then to nothing. The ruckus had yet to die down. When it did he thanked years of practice.

["Nice shot."]

Gohan gradually dropped his arms with nothing but regret.

"You see me?" he said.

["I see you."]

His transportation, secondary as it was, arrived, its back end turning as exit shields unraveled. His companion walked toward the ramp's edge to help him board. Secured within she resumed her role as pilot, course-initiating a cruise control. Her seat taken next to him and unlike other cargo, he had her attention.

"A penny for your thoughts?" she said.

"Man that thing was tough," he said. "Where did it even come from?"

Selina noticed the residue on his gi as she brushed bits from the sleeve under it.

"They looked at me like they were —"

"Transfixed," she completed. His nod said plenty.

"I thought by now I'd be used to it," he said.

"Nightwing might get his nomex in a bunch, but we did Gotham a favor," she said.

"Did we?" he doubted.

Gohan found no emotion in Selina's stare.

"It had my face. I wanted to help," he said with a seriousness she couldn't ignore.

"I know you did," she said. "You always want to help."

"Isn't that why I'm here?" he said to sway her opinion. Selina wasn't blind. His tone indicated she may have touched the unseen. If anything, she knew what made him tick.

"You're supposed to be the idealist," she said before standing. Pressing her lips to his cheek wasn't rushed. She thumbed a stain of Rimmel London red from his face.

"The rest of us have to be practical," she finished.

Gohan enjoyed a light smile at the sentiment as she shuffled off. He watched her all the while finding nothing else to dwell on. He then paid attention to it. Nothing.

. . . .

Connor Luthor, or Connor-L, was many things. A rather handsome, rather largely built man with focused eyes. Rather aggressive, but controlled, body language he could sport the attitude typical of a billionaire playboy. He sat in real leather behind plexiglass. His suit for the day cost a small fortune but his guest was easier on the eyes, looking like she stepped from a cover of Vogue Greece. Silver bracers and star earrings, a choker, the v-neck bodysuit was tight around a body men and women lusted after. As distracting was its star-field pattern having a life of its own. The coiled rope at her hip shined brighter than anything else.

"Come on, Donna. Mary too?" he said. "What's with the bandwagon you're all riding?"

"Not all of us cared for the jump from the Titans to the League. Some of us gave up more than we planned to," she said. "If she wants to go back to Paris to finish, she goes back. She's got like, what? A semester? It's her choice."

He stood to walk for unbreakable doors that opened at his presence and out onto a balcony where he could look over the city. His city. Far above any filth or people of ill repute LuthorCorp was a monument to the change Metropolis needed. That's what he told himself. He kept his back to her.

"You still have a thing for him. Don't you?" he asked.

"— I don't know what I have," Donna said at odds with herself.

"Unbelievable," he smirked.

Connor looked to her resolve. Her tall stature and poise. He returned to his office. Before the twin doors closed him in and her out, he had parting words.

"Whether it's with you, or Selina, who he bones isn't my concern. We need the Martian Manhunter's location," he said. "Waller won't give us squat. If lead wasn't involved we wouldn't be having this discussion. I'm counting on you."

Donna didn't flip the long, black silk falling over her shoulders. She almost laughed.

"You are such, a prick," she said, tensing. "It's any wonder Selina didn't dump you sooner."

"We're the Justice League, gorgeous. We don't get dumped. Wally is his boy. Dick could care less. That leaves Wonder Woman and her magic lasso," he said mockingly. "Squeeze it out of him. Or I will."

Donna couldn't have frowned harder. She pulled herself into the air glaring at the doors like the idea of knocking him into orbit wouldn't help. She took off, able to fly at Mach speeds, not wholly secure that nothing would go wrong.

The bunker kept things interesting. Catwoman kept at Gohan's side until they stopped. At a slab to drop the bag he held, unzipping it exposed confiscated evidence, with other abused tech he'd almost forgotten about. Careful to remove and position each Selina never took her eyes from what it all meant.

"You've been busy," she said.

"Not my choice," he said. "The room I was shot in. I think our new friend found a way to weaponize something the Androids could do."

"Energy absorption?"

"Yeah. Two of them had the ability. What else could explain my feeling so weak so suddenly?"

He said nothing more until she pulled at his chin.

"I'm right here," she said.

Gohan didn't mind the sleek of her gloves, and the focus of her goading him on.

"Giving me this place is your way of backing out?" he asked.

"No. It's my way of saying do your thing," she corrected. "You know I'm game to assist when it calls for it."

"That's not a yes or no, Selina."

"I don't deal in yeses and nos."

Selina searched his expression.

"We were supposed to be a team," he went with.

"Oh my, can you just stop?" she said as he was relentless.

"Mary wanting to finish college, to be frank, sucks. Deadpool will probably try to kill me the next time I see him. That leaves you. A while back Waller made me think of what could work. I don't need a team, per se. I just need people I can trust. Like Mary. Like you."

"See. This is how you do it. This is how it goes. "I need you, Selina." And I fall for it. Not this time. It's not happening."

Turning her back to him he moved in. He was cautious in wrapping his arms around a tight belly behind black. Selina sighed before she gave, moving her head for his chin to tap her shoulder. For the longest time Gohan enjoyed the press of her bottom against his pelvis. There were no issues when her gloves rested over his knuckles. She closed her eyes not one to discount the firm of his body. Both stood still to prolong it.

"You're frowning," he said.

"Piss off," she frowned.

"What's that upside-down thing under your nose?"

"Me wanting to claw your eyes out."

She didn't smile. He would.

"Sounds personal," he said.

"Sounds therapeutic," she said.

Selina turned to face his laugh, her head tilted back and gaze on his mouth.

"What about Donna?" she asked. The question was a touchy subject.

"Saying I don't care about her would be lying to you," he admitted. "We give each other space."

"Sure you do," she said getting one of two answers.

"Hey. I don't say anything when you take football players to fundraisers. Do I?" he said. "Remember when Dick Grayson was Batman for a bit? You two were all over each other. Who knows what else you get up to."

"That was work, Gohan," she said.

"Dick was work?" he asked.

"No, the fundra—aargh, never mind!" she huffed.

"Ha. See? It's the principle," he said.

Selina finally let out a chuckle, brief as it was. She fondled his lower lip.

"That won't do it," she said.

"You've got some serious trust issues."

"Bite me."

Giving her space Gohan returned to his tinkering. The objects he took apart, piece by piece, weren't nearly as important.

"I planned to get some training in tomorrow morning. Give that pressure chamber a test run," he said. "You'll call me?"

"If I feel like it," she said looking away. When she looked back he stood at her front. She gently nudged his cheek.

"I forget. Where's the little girl's room?" she asked.

"Through those doors," he said, pointing. Gohan wrestled with a love-hate relationship at Selina's walking from him. Her catsuit accentuated thighs and a rear end he often admired. Hormones raging, they played the waiting game, until alloy and intricate wiring separated one, from the other.

. . . .

The sidewalk packed, the hour late and miserably cold, voices were a constant. People with money and without waited among a line pouring from a nightclub. Midtown Metropolis, if he wasn't flying above it, was new. So were bouncers. A lumbering barrier at its entrance cloaked in Armani special clients the first he let in were mostly women. Gorgeous twenty-somethings the pick of the litter.

"It's freezing," his buddy griped.

"Wally. Are you sure you've been here before?" he asked visibly out of his element.

"Oh yeah. A few times," Wally said running a hand through close-cut, red hair. Freckled, quirky, his personality betrayed an athletic build. "Relax. Any more tense and you might pop a blood vessel."

"It's that obvious?" Gohan laughed.

"Just do like I do. Enjoy the view outside. Lose your cool inside. Trust me. You will," Wally said.

Gohan mostly contended with some over doing it with their perfume or cologne, his sense of smell on the verge of catching fire. The opposite sex didn't mind his thick glasses, he smiled, aware of the whispers, and the giggles. Finally making it to the entrance the final obstacle was at least five inches taller, stone-faced and sizing him up.

"He's with me," Wally grinned triumphantly. "West. The name should be on the list."

Leaving Gohan's neutral expression the bouncer flipped through what he held. He again scrutinized the pair, thinking the truth a touch absurd. Taking his time to move aside he replied in a deep timbre with, "Stay out of trouble."

Their table by the dance floor an interesting choice loud music and mingling were front and center. Gohan took it all in. Black lights made the patrons feel like they were saturated in a glow emanating from everything. Wall washers helped set the mood; a cool blue, a sensual red, a modern and energetic green. Club lasers turning the dance floor from ordinary to extraordinary adding that little extra to the simple joy of dancing. All of it entranced the audience to keep them in the club for a few extra hours without even realizing it. He'd see Wally making his way through, drinks in hand, bobbing his head to the song playing when he could. He stopped, slow to give him what he didn't mind buying.

"Club soda for you, sir," he said over the noise, taking a seat. "Gin and tonic for yours truly."

Looking to fresh ice cubes, Gohan took a sip, letting cool, sweet-bitterness sit on his tongue. "Did that guy know who you were, or?"

"You mean did we get in because I'm a member? Yes and no," Wally smiled. "How does it rate?"

"It's something else. That's for sure," Gohan said keeping his wits about him.

"Told you. After the week we've had this was a no-brainer," Wally said removing his coat. It was warm enough, comfortable, the result of so many bodies and a top of the line ac. "Oh sweet lord in heaven. Eyes right. Is that Donna?!"

Gohan watched for where Wally wasn't so subtle to point out; her hair usually straightened, curled outward, it was how she moved. No sweat on her tanned skin. Her hips swayed with the beat squeezed by a strapless dress darker than her locks. Proven right, Gohan indulged. As he stared, she stared. Everything fell away. He couldn't hear anything. He could only see toned and voluptuous in motion. Her lipstick a prominent black, like her eye liner and nail polish, she left as abruptly as she appeared.

"Uhh, hey. Go. What's up?" Wally said as he caught wind of it.

Excusing his shove through anyone in the way Gohan wouldn't stop until he discovered double doors. The back of the club through both. Emptied, a corridor of an ivory-rose concoction he found the men's room and no one occupying it. Turning too quickly, there she was, shoving him to the nearest wall. She was strong. Too strong. Her forearm pressed his neck to keep him still.

"Caught you slipping," she said. Any more monotone and he'd deem it offensive.

"Nice to see you too, Donna," Gohan said not moving a muscle. As she smelled like fresh mango, and looked as good as ever, he found it hard to wipe the smile from his face. Donna flexed her arm not letting him relax. She chose to.

"— Hera help me. I hate this freaking thing," she said tugging on the ends of her dress as she wiggled her hips.

"Should I even ask?" Gohan said straightening his sweater collar and fixing his specs. Donna made her approach, carefully.

"I'm here on business. Some jerk who gets his rocks off in kidnapping girls. The girls he favors happen to be metas. I plan on putting a stop to that."

"He works here?"

"Yes. He works here. And no I don't need any help."

She left him to check her baby blues in a mirror, hands on a sink's ends to keep up the act. She tore off the laces of her heels, one at a time, throwing both in the nearest trash bin. Tilting her head back she eyed the ceiling irritated with more than her appearance.

"Why did you have to text me?"

"That should be obvious," Gohan said taking one step forward. "I thought —"

She turned to face him as he didn't finish. For reasons he couldn't explain she reminded him of his mother. Whatever it was, he wouldn't tell her what she wanted to hear, as he could only be honest.

"I thought we were good," he finally managed. "You were the first person I met when I got here. We had each other's backs. That seemed like enough."

"It was enough," she said standing her ground. "Until it wasn't. I had people after me. Gods, Gohan."

"So what?" he said not liking her tone.

"So, that's my baggage. I'm not sharing it with anyone," she said stepping closer. "Anything I did, anything I said, even if it hurt was for my well-being. And yours. I'm not apologizing."

"You can keep your apology, Donna. Trust me. I don't need it," he said an inch from her leering like she wanted to sock him.

"Then what? What do you need? Huh?! I don't have time for this crap!" she griped close to giving in.

Before she could withdraw her mind from its far places—his arms were around her, as sure and hard as on the dark road outdoors. She felt again a rush of helplessness, a sinking yielding, the surging tide of warmth that left her limp. The angry face of Donna was blurred and drowned to nothingness. She gripped his hair, keeping his head in place and he kissed her, softly at first, and then with a swift gradation of intensity that made her cling to him as the only solid thing she needed. She taught him well.

His insistent mouth was parting her shaking lips, sending wild tremors along her nerves, evoking from her sensations she remembered she was capable of feeling. And before a swimming giddiness at letting go continued, she knew that she was kissing him back. Against the wall again they were stopped by someone's making their presence known. A fellow patron looked to their pants like he caught two deer in the brightest headlights.

"Sorry bro," he said quickly finding a stall and closing himself out of the picture.

Sucking in the air lost Donna walked back, not saying a peep. She glanced for Gohan like their ignoring repressed desire was the worst idea. On her way out she pushed away the hair in her face, not even thinking to say where she was going.

*Chapter 6*: Chapter 6

She didn't have to meet them. They met her. Twenty in total armed with unmarked, automatic carbines and alerted to her presence. They opened fire but her hands were a blur. Two shots ricocheted from the bracers she rarely took off, piercing two heads. Taking one by the wrist she rose hers to ward off a flurry, spinning, bludgeoning another with his partner. The hallway aided her freakish speed, her push from its wall, bringing a hard kick into a jaw, dropping into a spin of her foot to sweep up one crowding her.

Pushing her knuckles into his chest so hard his kevlar tore open before and after he hit the floor. What remained of them emptied a magazine hitting nothing but blessed steel, hearing each ting. With a roll she was there, his throat in one of her hands, the barrel of his weapon in the other. She clenched rending it to a smashed in hunk of metal he could no longer rely on. His feet flailed as she demonstrated mercy. One flick of her wrist tossed him into the ceiling, she stepped back to let him drop with pieces of it breaking against his nape.

A shriek behind two doors she kicked them from the hinges to find porcelain beneath her toes and plenty of space, lit bright enough for her to scan every inch. Readied, her enemy's purple mohawk was typical. His suit cost more than what he paid the lot of his staff. More off-putting was his pasty skin, pointed ears and crimson scleras. Chosen groupies for the night weren't groupies. They were toys he collared off, sedated, and placed side-by-side like he would put them in a box to take them elsewhere.

"Ahhh. The Amazon decided to join us," he gassed. "Don't worry, luv. I saved you the best seat in the house."

"Not interested," Donna said. "I'm at the end of my rope, Stane. We can try civil, or I can snap you in half. If their lungs weren't punctured some of your men would advise against option B."

"I adore that about you. So raw, so, unhinged when it calls for it."

Stane flashed sharpened teeth. A seasoned warrior Donna knew relaxed was always better than tense.

"I have a proposition," he said.

"And that is?" she said.

"Having someone with your skill set protect me and my business. You'd be well paid. Catered to. I only hire the best. And you are the best. Aren't you, Donna? You and your league of hypocrites."

Donna snickered barely believing his gall and the waste of her time. "You've officially gone off the deep end. Some of us kept our integrity, Stane. Bad news for you."

"Is it?"

She watched the club owner drop his wine glass, the shift of his eyes from cleared to veined. Spiked fur of platinum stood on end, lengthening, ruining his outfit, the monster he became beyond his control. His teeth acid-soaked fangs and his stance well over nine feet Donna braced herself.

Once clean and neat the hallway was a sea of bodies. Some drew breath, but not all.

"Wally," he said, a finger to his ear. "Don't ask questions, okay. How fast can you get everyone out of the building?"

["A few seconds. Tops. What did I miss?"]

"I don't know yet. Just get on it," he said.

Unnerving to step through, Gohan, at a loss, avoided the result. Hearing the tussle, feeling it, dented doors on the floor of the room he entered, he then witnessed it. Her carrying a vicious cretin into something hard. It strangling her in tangent. Distracted by his arrival the transformed Stane swiped Donna with the back of his mitt sending her through plaster across the room, tears ripping along her dress as she slammed into an office and its sole file cabinet.

"YoU wAnT sOmE tOo, PrEtTy BoY?"

Gohan replied with silence, mindful of Stane's charging. Gripping a sweaty wrist, he turned and pulled, using Stane's momentum, his counter sending him from his feet and through the entrance. Anxious to charge again he dropped into a kneel as he felt Donna's return. Her foot against his back glowing gold wrapped his arms she jerked to keep him still. In front of him quicker than quick Gohan rose joined hands bashing them against his skull, the worth of it plunging Stane through the carpet.

"— And I'm the one slipping," he said.

"Don't start. We were almost on the same page a second ago," she sassed.

Making haste they jumped to land between debris and Wally's keeping his word. Music wasn't able to entertain an empty club. Gohan at Donna's side he stole a glance at her dress. What was left of it.

"Well. It's better than nothing," he said.

"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled, lasso at the ready.

Steeling themselves, their opponent drooled, losing all reason. Stane threw a lunging fist into a palm. Gohan's foot cracked his chin though it seemed he barely moved. Stane's back met a vacant bar to crumple it. He snorted, shattering anything under his step. Donna rose a well-placed blow into his gut ducking the one he arched. Gohan used the distraction to snatch him by his thick ankle. One pull brought his sternum to his elbow. Dizzied, Donna's lasso wrapped his neck and tightened.

She reeled him in to knock the taste from his mouth, Gohan working in tandem to avoid her progress and resume his own. Their assault overwhelmed and there was no end to it. Donna's final toss clutched Stane's legs, her turning harder arms drew him into a just as quick twirl. Releasing him she and her partner watched his rupturing the foundation. He tumbled into an alley, his back knocking the rust from a dumpster. The sight to come was novel to Gohan: Stane's fur molted. His demonic shape shrunk. Trembling, normal-sized and naked light sparked in his glare against his will. Both listened for his breathing. And when it stopped.

"Dammit," Donna said.

Gohan recognized an urgent fact.

"Donna!" he yelled tackling her to shield her body as the building to their backs blew up. The pop joined smoke and flame coating them in it, he rolled over, coughing, grabbing her clutch to pull her with him.

"The girls!" she gasped.

"Wally got them out," he assured her.

She'd forgotten the other meta in play. Flattered by the decision, pissed at his interference, Donna didn't know what to make of anything. She chose safe. They could carry themselves from the bustle. Stane's club burned. Sirens rang. The neighborhood's activity picked up in the passing of minutes. Some were thankful. Others, were in shock of the sudden buzzkill.

They didn't have a world class, medical bay to work with. Déjà vu again. Except then and there he was flat on a slab as she drew blood, paying attention as to not take too much. Gohan wondered of more than Donna's ruined clothes.

"Plays it fast and loose. Trademark it while you can," she said.

He had to grin ignoring the needle piercing his shoulder as he barely felt it. "Watching you work is both inspiring and scary."

"I am pretty badass," she smiled.

He sat up, rolling his shoulder, looking to a fresh bandage dressing most of it. As she was close by tending to a machine able to store vials of the sort it spun to the first prepared slot.

"After the Titans—what started the League?" he asked. She turned to face him, not bothered yet somehow conflicted. His vitals, checking x-rays, fatigue levels recorded in real time, she shook her head once and remembered.

"In my opinion. Ignorance," she said frankly.

"Ignorance?" he said.

"The idea that every problem can be fixed. That every problem needs to be. We lost Garfield and Victor in the same year. Koriand'r a year later. Connor and Dick—used to have the best intentions."

"What happened to the others?"

She stared aimlessly. "They wanted out. In a way, they got what they asked for. Wally and Mary made it. Like I made it."

He disregarded anything else. It was unsettling. The idea. "I think I get why you guys are so close. You're survivors."

"Mary studies. Wally drinks. I self-blame," she said.

Gohan followed Donna's keeping meaning to herself. Some of the fables were true; the Amazons were unnaturally striking and their princess, something else entirely. He didn't believe she used to give him the time of day and never would.

"All we can do is try," he said.

"We can definitely try. Just don't lose any sleep," she said to impart wisdom.

The chamber's sterile felt exactly as it looked. Frigid and hygienic. She stopped fretting his health.

"We've got some immediate news," she said reading the device she'd yet to put down.

"Let's hear it."

"I'm no biologist, but from what I can tell the alien half of your genome is rejecting any effects fallout inhalation could've had."

"Whew! That's a relief."

"You may want to wait on the victory dance," she said.

"Good point," he said flat on his back again. "Tonight was insane."

Donna hopped into her seat on the slab's end. She lightly kicked her bare feet, looking to her lap like letting him see her pleased would give him the edge. Turning her head she noticed his watching her. Tension didn't require cutting with a knife. They thought the silence was thicker.

"Empowered by the Fires of Hestia?" Gohan said to say anything. As he sat up, he was close. A glance away, her taking her lasso in hand felt too natural.

"Infinitely long and can lengthen depending on the desire of its wielder," she shared as they admired it. "I've been told its capacity for truth was written as innate to myself. It merely focuses that power."

Gohan dared. He tucked strands of her hair behind her ear for her. It got her attention.

"What else," he asked, his face closer. She watched lips she had a mind to wet again.

"Wait," she said.

Respectfully, he paused to admire the small mole beneath her nostril. His facing one way, her facing the other, thoughts of Selina weren't strong enough to alter the mood. He wasn't proud of it. Donna stood anyway. She took a step, or two, then turned to focus.

"What would you do if I said yes?" she said. If ever her eyes were focused his were available.

"To what?" he said. By then he was on his feet with her staying where he stood.

She glanced once more to the lasso she held out.

"Touch it," she tried her luck.

Moving to, he proved he would do anything she asked of him.

"The lasso compels you to speak truthfully," she said in all seriousness. "Before I left for Themyscira. What we had. Was it real?"

Her lasso would scorch most before they gained the chance to shirk the truth. At its beckon, and hers, it simply warmed. She blamed his modesty.

"Not a day goes by where I don't think of it, Donna," he owned up.

Donna slowly took her lariat from his fingertips. Her mind raced. His confession making her wonder, and sparking a bout with culpability, she backed her way out.

"— Keep your phone nearby," she said hoping he got what she implied. The chamber's door fell ahead of her. Gohan rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling to himself. It was all he could do to keep from sighing.

. . . .

The morning occasion wasn't so riveting. LuthorCorp doubled as the Justice League HQ. It certainly had the space. A floor to itself, within a room for planning sat a contemporary, round table. Twelve seats. Seven of which were reserved for core members. Their insignia prominently molded into its center and at one point it shined a glossier finish. Everything wreaked of too expensive. And perhaps the most used to it was the fully-costumed CEO. He took his time considering anyone present. Wonder Woman he expected, her garb akin to his, denoting leadership. The third, a tenacious speedster, was in better spirits. Twin-bolt molds of silver on each side of a cowl that left his eyes, hair and mouth free.

"Donna has it covered," Superman said. "Fingers crossed that his time away did him some good."

"You think a suicide mission to wipe out every Lantern with a red ring was a favor to him? We haven't heard jack from the Guardians. It'd be safer for everyone to let him stay where he is," Flash smirked, joking but not.

"I'll keep it in mind. Was there anything else?" Connor sighed not wanting to be there. Meetings meant tedium. Everything but taking a breather from the life. Wally half understood Donna's silence. Connor wanted to.

"You haven't said anything since we got here," he said.

As she had the floor, and their attention, Donna woke from a daydream she needed. She first glanced for Wally's wink; a sign that they'd talk when interested parties were as far away as they could be.

"Several candidates expressed interest in our junior program. Once I have all their names, you will," she said wearing her best poker face.

"Any progress on that other thing?" Connor pressed. He drowned out anything audible to listen. For her heart beating. For the blood pumping into and out of it. Nothing it did, outside of function uniquely, gave her away.

"By the time you get back we'll be ready to start the search," she said.

Connor forgot Wally was in the room. The Kryptonian-Human hybrid was too busy staring down an Amazon. No malice on the surface, and yet, neither could make the other flinch.

"— Glad to hear it," he said nonchalantly. "You have your details. This meeting's adjourned."

Wally's glance joined Donna's as Connor took his leave, the infamous, scarlet cape following his pace. When left to their thoughts—they could finally exhale.

On Cloud 9 he could only think of one way to spend his afternoon. Over rooftops he went after the swerve of a convertible. A school bus trapped between a car to its front and back presented a danger to the youth. Dropping to his feet he stood before it. A humanoid wall of red and blue. The circled patch and the kanji between it caught their attention while his was on his finger sending two hot spurts at two tires. Both stopped their turn. He reached with a palm letting more than two-thousand pounds ram his hand, bits of glass flying towards his body and the side of what he protected.

The convertible, its front end crushed, slumped to its rear wheels. He turned a wink to cheery faces. Their glee his to enjoy they raved at his two-finger salute. All eyes on his wrapping the driver with the piping yanked from it. Little admirers would also see his spring over gridlock. His soar left its contrail. Nothing to check his progress. Nothing to stop his pull into barrel roles and more speed to toss himself further. Not wanting to forget he had a promise to keep. He'd see her for dinner that night and he couldn't have been more about it.

. . . .

"— Huh. That's weird," he said. "You know I tried Selina three times today. Got her voicemail."

"Is it new?" she asked.

"Kind of," he said. "I mean, she'd probably tell me if she was going out of town."

Done with one of the tastiest meals they'd had in a while a night in meant casual everything.

"Wally says bringing Kyle back might not be the best move," he said curious of what she knew.

"It's not," she said. "There's no telling what his mental state even is."

As she sat again Gohan's gawking was no bother. Elbows on the table he kept his head raised. His cologne wasn't the priciest, but neither was her perfume. Donna stood without warning to walk by his side. It took a gesture with her nod, which meant leave the dishes on the table. The space of his cabin wasn't outstanding. Perfect for a starving artist. When they sat again it was on a used but comfy sofa. She leaned into it, an arm on its top as one of her legs crossed the other.

"Should I break out the lariat?" she said.

"That's a trick question," he said, shrugging. "You hit harder than any woman I know, sooo, why risk saying yes?"

"Coward," she grinned. Donna slid a little closer. Her pause was a prelude to an idea.

"I did some thinking," she shared. Her gaze fell to Gohan's tighter sweatshirt. He had a linebacker's physique yet he never carried himself as such.

"And?" he said.

"We're where we should be," she said. "Against my better judgment."

"That's not it."

"Isn't it?"

Gohan searched the grey of what they sat on. He ignored her smelling good looking to his hands for no reason.

"I would've said the same thing. We have fun. Selina and I. My dad wasn't what you'd call a, intellectual. In the normal sense. But he loved mom. After, he, uhh, realized what marriage meant."

Donna slid closer. So close that the glint of her eyes were almost on his. Gohan chuckled again as she brazenly propped her head on his shoulder. She stared at his upright posture even when sitting and he looked to her lip gloss. Her being so close was a problem. He wanted to take advantage. He chose to stand. She stayed where she was as he stopped next to his front door.

"I shouldn't even bring this up. What's that feeling you get? When you know something's right even if you think it's not," he said, arms folded, no emoting, which was somehow an issue.

Donna left her seat. He cherished her height. They saw eye-to-eye. He tugged at her chin and she just stared. She fought apprehension placing her palms on his hips. She wanted the slow lean into it. One questioning the other without speaking, gazes jumping up and down, their mouths pursed enough for it to happen. He gave her a gentle lip lock when decisions were final. Her taste was sweet despite supper's spice on her breath. She melted in his bigger arms when they wrapped around the small of her back. He'd grant her another peck on her scalp if only because it also smelled like everything, as he put it, right. Her confusion left his squared chest.

"The iron's hot," she said.

He let a sheepish grin speak for him. Lamps standing tall from his carpet offered enough light to keep the mood tranquil. Inviting.

"What are you saying?" he played dumb.

"I'm not spelling it out, genius," she said choosing to linger on his sudden need to think it over.

"It's a possibility I'm open to. You know. While we figure out whether or not friends are enemies and enemies are friends."

Gohan brushed a few of Donna's strands from her eyes. He wanted to see them.

"We have to make sure J'onn is safe," she said in need of his opinion. "I don't know what they plan to do. And Kyle's a problematic addition to whatever that is."

"I hear you," he said. "At least we can rely on Wally. He's a good man. A good friend. I want to trust Selina."

Done with contemplating unknowns, her hand safe in his, they returned to his couch. She set her leg over his, her back against a comfortable armrest to watch a man she admired rubbing the tension from her shin. Few mortals could. As sincerity was part of his staring he didn't have to say it would be alright. She believed him.

. . . .

A light evening drizzle ran its course. But he played the role of unmoved gargoyle. Electronic binoculars weren't binoculars. He flicked the setting to infrared, scanning for people, breach points, structural weaknesses. Coming to terms, his tool folded itself smaller than a wallet he could slip into a slot on a dark cincture. Standing, his grapnel gun spear-tipped, spring-loaded, it popped from the barrel. He jumped pushing his legs forward for the swing cutting through fog and mist. At the height of it he knew to retract the hook twirling up and over into his fall. Acrobatic mastery helped him stick the landing on the balls of his feet. Pressing his back to a wall he took hold of another implement listening to them discuss their cargo's relevance.

Ready to defend himself they couldn't spot what he held. The garage was no liability. It was dusty, but it had the space he could work with.

"Only ten of you? I'm insulted," he scoffed.

He pressed the middle of a three-pronged mystery. They couldn't unseat the composure. Several commenced an attack as he rolled to evade three knife thrusts flinging his weapon. Sharp and loud when it spun, widening its arc, felling four of the ten left them bleeding below the neck and stunned. The still standing six wouldn't fair any better. He jumped in place lifting hard as metal boots into the chins of two. Catching the hand of one he snapped the back of his fist against a temple turning his waist to kick another on the run up. Throwing the ruffian he held snapped his wrist and damaged pride.

One of the final two fired a pistol but a beeping blade pierced his grip. Before he could react his face hit concrete. The last held a wobbling hand out like it would keep him away. He heard the stories. Turning to flee in terror his aggressor pulled at one of his Escirama sticks and tossed it without looking. It bounced from his target's skull, flipping wildly, returning to his catch and fixing straight as he holstered it. Pulling a sliding door to close it sealed disorder, his brooding, and his victims within.

"The weapon shipment! Who sells to your boss? Talk! While I still allow it."

He tightened a gloved hand. Ski-masked, the gangster's perspiration and anxiety never ceased.

"C-Chill man. You're crazy! I'm one'a the new guys. All I know is Manzinni's spooked. That ain't like him. Give me a b-break huh. I-I'm just hired muscle!"

The pressure increase on his throat was a pain until it wasn't; one chop rendered him useless. Checking four ends of it he carefully opened one of many crates. Plastic explosives, assault rifles of a unique type, he perused and took his time to.

"I see you're still a people person."

He recognized the voice. It all but rang across his supposed privacy. Catwoman's fall from the ceiling silent, then her walk certain, she carried herself like no one else.

"Finally decided to show yourself," he said.

"You knew?" she said.

"Of course I knew."

With nothing like a kind disposition he crossed arms over the solid, blue wingspan shielding his chest.

"Thanks for the help, by the way," he said.

"I figured the situation wasn't so volatile," she said. "And you handled it well. Mostly."

He got back to it, pretending she wasn't a hassle.

"You're here for, what again? A lift to the nearest precinct?" he said.

"Tempting," she smirked. "Gunther Cross is the arms dealer you're looking for, Nightwing. I'm guessing you knew that too."

"You think we don't know what you've been doing?" he smirked. "Loud doesn't suit you."

"Ditto," she said. "We bad guys always look for chinks in the armor. You and Superman stick out like a sore thumb—and you're planning something. Something big."

Dick pondered what he wouldn't voice. Fallen criminals he hated to spare, he scowled, thinking they deserved death more than anything. Following that he approached as she flashed the wryest grin.

"We are," he said, his voice not so much deep as it was smooth. "I'm just not seeing how that's any of your business. You've got less than two minutes before GCPD get here to clean up."

"Oh, unclench already," she said, eyeing one set of her claws, grinning like his reaction was a joke. "I accepted a job in Glasgow. While I'm gone, I'm asking you to keep an eye on our mutual friend. And your hands to yourself."

"What if I don't?"

She unabashedly provoked him. It was part of their game. The lower ends of her costume kept their micro-filaments forming retractable steel at the fingertips. She flexed those digits, swaying her hips with a forward strut. Close enough, Dick didn't feel her pinching the rigid molds of his bodysuit. Her aroma, not scentless like his, couldn't win her points.

"Leave him be, Nightwing. For old time's sake," she said admiring Dick's chiseled features.

Her eyes deceived. His were purposefully hidden behind the domino mask. He turned his back to her shutting down any attempts.

"He's on borrowed time. The only thing you need to know is it's coming to a head," he said. "When it does, you're either in our way, or you aren't."

Catwoman chose to glare as he cracked a smarmy grin that rubbed the wrong way.

"Offer something I can't refuse, then we can talk," he said.

The garage's lighting blinked, dimming in and out, then held steady. When she could see clearly Nightwing wasn't there anymore.

. . . .

Wonder Woman led the prompt exploring of overcast. Near her, matching her pace, a focused Gohan needing to stretch his legs. Heavy clouds shifting the snowstorm parted for them no matter how much of it fell. Gohan didn't question why she was armed to the teeth; her shield would put anyone off, ancient symbolism etched into it, like the xiphos strapped to her thigh. Both were prayed over to join the lasso awaiting her touch.

"Canadian winters aren't my idea of fun," he said willing away his shiver and chattering teeth.

"If you're still alive when get there we'll hug it out. Think warm thoughts," she ribbed paying attention to what was ahead.

He called it natural. The rush. In many ways it was and not only for him. They pressed ahead, soon lowering themselves among an abandoned shipping yard. Several crates massive and peeled apart, the air wetting their scalps, they crept, watching, listening, until standing in place to scope it all out was the best bet.

"Cliché," Donna said.

"Unfortunately," Gohan said.

His next step was grabbed. An unknown wrapped its alloy grip around his ankle. He pulled at it hearing several objects burst from the soil. Donna's arms abruptly clutched as she was carried through the rotting wall of a warehouse. Someone's creation smashed her into large machinery draped in cobwebs.

"Donna!" Gohan yelled.

Annoyed, he sprung away, his leap pulling a cybernetic assailant with him. Swinging a chop into a tentacle sliced through it. The new arrival prepped its bladed armaments. Donna emerged from the building she'd been thrown into. She barreled through two of their foes, shoving them through a loaded crate, destroying more of what surrounded them. Their appearance akin to bipedal-squids if ever they chirped it was in code neither understood. Lunging slippery limbs at Gohan's skill he contested five with blocks and immediate dodging.

One of them managed to whip its tendril across his jaw sending him skidding over ice. He shook off the blow not expecting their strength. Each utilized boosters to fly as he did streaking towards his position, up and out. In the corner of his eye he glimpsed Donna. Her backward aerial from a leap and sliding across earth on her boots and the hand she plunged through it. She found a weakness. Catching a thrown tendril she swung it through a construction beam. Jumping high she fell knee first into a large, red sphere protruding from its center. Bracers crossed for defense she caught the worth of a detonation.

"Gohan! The bulbs on their chests!" she yelled through it.

Stopping a sharp appendage between her arm pit she pulled her second attacker over her body splitting the ground as they slammed it. Blade in hand she spun it by the grip to stab the vulnerable point, kicking the deactivated carcass across the yard.

"Hoiyahh!" she cried hurling her shield.

It impacting her target wasn't so grievous. Its crash was. Gaining a moment her focus turned to Gohan's combating several. He picked up the pace striking their centers in rapid succession. The result their combustion, their burning to pieces, bits fell to the frozen lake where they remained. He snatched the last before it hit. Carrying it to his patient comrade he stepped from the air, with her as they looked to the smolders.

"One-hundred?" she asked.

"One-hundred," he said.

Giving her what he held he didn't hide his pleasure. It was her strength. Her combat prowess and performance.

"Thank you," she said as he retrieved her shield. She slid it against her upper back and left it there.

"A pretty good defense," she added.

"That's what I'm thinking. We must be close," he said.

Her attention never left the leathery coat of the machine's piece. Eventually seeing it she shared in his content.

"Is something funny?" she asked.

"You," he said.

"Me? Ohhhh, you mean my upstaging you. Again."

"In your dreams, princess."

Taking things seriously she knew the way so he followed. On foot they took a detour across a road trading it for endless white and the treeline it led to.

*Chapter 7*: Chapter 7

The rock formation they found rose up into the southern landscape. Inside was a different story. Stabbing spurs they had to duck cut across the cavern at a severe angle. The natural bridge they walked icy, they minded their step, but too far down is where they needed to be.

"J'onn's definitely here," he said. "Was he expecting us?"

"Hard to say," she said, vigilant. "Those things were chirping in what I assume to be Martian."

"Martian?"

Jumping over the side they lowered themselves, slowly but surely. Touching feet-first murky water rose to their ankles as they waded through it. Gohan was too focused to consider the numbing of his skin. Wonder Woman's durability helped negate hers.

"Why the big fuss over finding him?" he asked.

"J'onn knows something," she said. "Something Superman and Nightwing might not want him to."

Her lasso lit the way better than a torch ever could. The wall to their front stopped progress. Water slipping between cracks splashed as it met the pool. A constant flow Donna thought to run her hand along how wet it was—until her hand pushed through it. The wall disappeared leading into a passage of metal and not earth. A string of lights ran its length, not as arrows, but as indicators. Donna glanced for Gohan, unsure of it. It was warmer to step through. They followed it for wherever it led.

The Eclesians were a dwarfish race, asexual, appearing as yellowish gnomes in tattered rags. Their planet an endless desert of crystalline sand tainted the same lavender as their sky dual suns made it unbearable to breathers of oxygen. But he could will the vibrant apparatus shielding his nose and mouth for as long as was needed, fueled by something else.

"AHHHHHHNHNN!"

"No! Please DON —"

His enemy's pleading was snuffed by a green construct; hard light he wanted to shape as a giant mace to bash in his skull. Red wet the lavender. Buckets of red poured from the emblems of inert creatures not native to the world. His ring shined a brighter emerald despite his rage. Despite the brain matter slipping along his Lantern Corp. uniform and thick mask. He remained on his knees, huffing and puffing. As he glanced he could see an elongated chest no longer moving. The head missing from the torso. Pieces of whatever the being called a face lifeless, damp, and separated.

"Easy now," rang a commanding baritone. He turned to see it falling from the air. As comforting as the cape and diamond-crest were nothing distracted more than the L—and the fiery glow seeping from his eyes. "I took care of a few leaving orbit."

Superman surveyed the aftermath; entrails, severed limbs—Red Lanterns ripped to pieces and then some.

"You're okay, Kyle," he said looking to the cracks in Kyle's mask.

The bloodied, attractive features surrounding it reflected Mexican-Irish roots.

"Okay? Okay?! We were supposed to be better than this!" he said spitting some he nearly swallowed. "I was!"

"Where are the other Green Lanterns?" Connor asked.

"Ask the Guardians. We softened them up. Even managed to take a few down without resorting to—this. And then they left me. They fucking left me!" Kyle hollered.

"Listen. It had to be done," Connor said, taking a knee. "The galaxy is better off. Think of the lives you saved, right here and now. If anything Eclesia owes you. We all do."

Kyle knew why Connor worked. He had the charm. A leader's charisma. Connor kept the hand he extended available, his grin light. Somehow, scores of the dead stinking beyond logic didn't turn up his nose. Kyle made up his mind. He grabbed hold, pulled to his feet with little to none of Connor's effort. There were no winds on Eclesia. No ambient sounds. Too quiet, too real, they wouldn't speak of anything else until they left it.

Arriving at a door from a staircase Wonder Woman pressed her thumb to a pad devoid of keys. She half believed it would work. Gohan watched its flare, one bar going up and down to recognize her. They heard one beep before the click and figured the wall would separate. It revealed a lift untouched by decay. Platinum in tint any chill dispersed for very little warmth rushing in. The ride down quick when they reached it they waited for its exit to reveal the spectacular; stationed in the center was its heart, pillared, polished, reaching to the cave's ceiling to display the world as a hologram they could walk through.

"Donna Troy. Son Gohan," its manager said. Stoic, his voice appeared out of and from the wall he left. Forcing himself tangible, green-skinned, completely bald, J'onn's heavy brows, thick lips and fully crimson eyes were but one of the many forms he could take. It had been a while since Gohan witnessed his garb's primary black, its red accents. The large belt and x-shaped straps crossing his muscly torso. Gold clips held the weight of his cloak his movements were never rushed and never slowed.

"J'onn," Donna said. She was quicker to approach. Holding him close their hug was genuine.

"You're alright," she beamed.

"I am," J'onn grinned, rarely one to. "Please excuse the H'Ronmeer drones. I had to be sure it was you."

Gohan's goofy grin followed his walk up. As he clutched J'onn's hand, he felt better, glad in knowing his Martian elder was a reality.

"Good seeing you in one piece," he said. "We could really use you back in the mix."

"Indeed," J'onn said, leading them. They stopped ahead of the rotating map and the blinking of its numerous regions. Newscasts were flat squares, projected. Continuous feeds. His way of keeping abreast of current events.

"My self-induced exile was purposeful, Son Gohan. The Justice League is not as it appears. It took several months to compile the evidence. I thought to communicate with you and Donna via telepathy. They would expect as much."

The next footage to loop was harder to stomach. Donna's mouth parted as she stared in horror; she watched and heard images of friends, colleagues, committing petty crimes and working with the most vile of their enemies. She couldn't sweat as it was too dry and cold. A chill trailed her spine all the same. The three of them listened:

["...You say anything, I'll come back and break the other one. Got it?!..."]

["...We want our cut. Wally doesn't have to know. We could always tell him. Guess what that means. Back to Belle Reeve you go. After he punches you a hundred times in half a second. He wouldn't have the stomach to finish you. But I would..."]

["...We're the reason it's kosher...Yeah that's right...I don't know yet...Well, that's why we have Donna. You think we keep her around because she's needed?..Tsk, exactly. Would've had her bent over my desk months ago if she wasn't such a stuck up bitch...Right...Yeah call me when it clears..."]

"Turn it off," Donna said, all but fuming.

"This may be even more difficult to comprehend, Donna," J'onn said. He cautiously set a hand on her shoulder. "Superman does not intend to harm the innocent. In fact, he and Nightwing go above and beyond to keep their word in that regard. It is their methods that we must call into question. Extortion. Murder. Or threats of it. Working with the likes of Circe, Vandal Savage, and Gorilla Grodd, to name a few. All of it is unacceptable."

He and Donna glanced to Gohan at their back. If he clenched his fists any tighter they'd bleed.

"I've wasted so much time," he said quietly. "What's the point of me being here if the obvious goes right over my head?"

Donna left J'onn's side. Feeling her palms against his cheeks helped Gohan smarten up. Her beautiful eyes were what he saw first.

"We were all in the dark," she said, turning a glance. "J'onn. Make a copy. We'll come up with something. Why you were gone. What you were doing. We keep this between the three of us. Agreed?"

J'onn and Gohan's nod was one of hesitation.

"This facility has a self-destruct function," J'onn said. His long fingers flicked at air to prompt a save, and an idea. Any open displays bugged out.

"Data wipe initiated. Fifteen minutes and counting," he summed.

Gohan and Donna could see the curious numbers popping into view. The chamber flashed, coating it in unstable reds, the sound of its heads-up deafening. Taking his hand in hers was instinctive. Arriving with hope in spades, they coveted a great deal less on the way out.

By the end of the week...

The core seven were one short. Wonder Woman sat with the man of the hour. Legit smiles exchanged she hoped her consideration sufficed. Fresh air, plenty of sunshine, Capitol Hill, aside from being a metonym was the largest historic residential neighborhood in the city, its stretching easterly along wide avenues. At the base of its steps of white stone were supporters, anti-supporters, reporters, and the like. All of them awaited one to speak after another finished.

"— And today, we recognize his dedication to the ideal," Superman resumed. "Green Lantern. If you would stand."

Kyle glanced to Donna decked out in ceremonial armor, and a rarity, its tiara and cloak. She offered her smile again. He stood walking toward a podium with its many microphones. Someone less important gave the jovial Superman what looked like a ribboned medal.

"Kyle Rayner. On behalf of the President, I've been given permission to bestow upon you the Medal of Freedom. Today, we recognize your especially meritorious contribution to the security and national interests of the United States, world peace, cultural and other significant public and private endeavors. And to acknowledge your triumph against the Red Lanterns."

Kyle tried his hand at modest. He shook several more, Superman's last, not thinking the claps were anything he deserved. Connor moved aside gifting him a chance to speak or answer questions. He heard the yelling of his name. Several ecstatic female fans. He could see signs expressing the idolizing, or criticism, of the organization he represented.

"I'm not sure what to say really," he managed. Somehow his mask felt heavier.

"Mr. Rayner! Mr. Rayner! Is it true that the Red Lanterns acquired the means to destroy the entire planet?"

Kyle glanced for one of the first to ask him anything. He didn't know which microphone to speak into, nor which one would project his voice the loudest.

"It is," he admitted. "I would never let that happen. We can only thank God I've got friends like Superman watching my back. I was a mess when he found me. Still am. But I'm home."

"Mr. Rayner! What will you do now?"

"Wonder Woman is helping me remember how it takes," he said. "Maybe that's a better question for her. Martian Manhunter's return coincided with mine. The grass is definitely greener."

"Mr. Rayner! Is it true that you have romantic ties to at least a few of the other Lanterns? Was one of those alleged women not a Red Lantern?"

Everyone listening replied with widened eyes. Gasps and whispers for the gall.

"That's —"

"Besides the point," Superman cut in. "Kyle's still recovering from everything that happened. He appreciates your concern. And your continued support."

Kyle quickly sat, uncomfortable, borderline sweating. He received more praise, eventually choosing to interact with the people. He could wear his celebrity better than most of them. The event broadcast globally eyes and ears belonging to most nations remained glued to whatever they used. The Justice League always meant numbers. High ratings. Those controlling the media took full advantage.

. . . .

Her living room kept bleu de france velvet. Tasting red wine from a tall glass it had to have been her fifth or sixth. She knocked another one back. Hearing a doorbell didn't startle. On her feet she opened his way in, pleased. He glanced to the tank top and boy shorts fitting snug. Her curves nearly spilled out of both. She helped remove his hoodie. A hop, skip and a jump to her kitchen she pulled a handle of stainless steel. Taking one bottled smoothie from it her strut back to him was as anxious.

"Thanks," he said.

Twisting a cap off he chugged a generous amount. Plopping beside him she slid her legs over his lap, leaning against pillows she recently bought. Her drink in hand, the television blaring, wall-mounted, neither paid it any mind.

"So," he said.

"So," she said. "I'm glad you came."

The following silence wouldn't last.

"Let's talk for a sec."

Donna took hold of a remote. One press placed her den in quietude. Gohan assumed. He hoped. There was a leap he needed to take and he was tired of shying from it.

"Are you attracted to me?" she asked flippantly.

"Obviously," he replied. "I thought we covered that ages ago."

"You never can be too sure," she said. "All I have to offer are my looks, remember? I'm just T and A that can punch a hole through steel."

Her sips were gulps. She situated herself up, and closer. He gently pulled a beanie from his hair, bifocals from his eyes, and thought reading her behavior a challenge.

"Talk to me," he tried.

"— Apparently that's all I am to Connor and Dick," she said slightly tipsy. "Look I get it. You guys have your locker room talk. Women are guilty of the same thing. I just thought there was a little bit more respect there. I've known them since I was sixteen. We've been through so much."

Gohan let her vent. Seeing her drink at all perturbed. Her Amazonian physiology wouldn't let her become incoherent, but she was clearly off-kilter.

"I don't agree with Wally's habit," he dared. "It has to be his choice to stop. This isn't you though. No matter what anyone says you're a good person. There's nothing you have to prove to me. If they can't see what I see, oh well."

Donna set the bottle she abused down, pinching the bridge of her nose. She wasn't a cryer. If her eyes watered it was hardly noticeable. He joined her in watching her bracers. But they offered no answers. Gohan rubbed her soft skin, working his way to her feet to get her attention. Her toenails painted a vivid red, starting at her heel, he slid both of his thumbs up and out. She wasn't ticklish so he used more pressure.

"— Keep doing that," she said fine with what aided a full-body tingle. She even relaxed.

"Like this?" he said using the knuckles of his first two fingers to make small circles on the heel and ball of her foot.

"Just like that," she grinned not expecting it. "Who taught you how to rub feet?"

"I did," he chuckled. "I've been reading about what women like."

"Oh have you now?" she said. "Son Gohan making the first move. Or any move. Maybe I am drunk."

"Two things. I don't know what making a move even means. And second, "Amazons can't get drunk." Sound familiar?" he said.

He threw caution to the wind and ignored his overthinking. She sat up abruptly. Her expression tried his. She leaned forward to pull him by his collar. He moved his head left, then right, avoiding her, as it was fun to. Fun until she punched his shoulder.

"Ow! Jeez you hit hard!" he laughed.

"Shut up and kiss me," she smiled.

Giving her the brisk lip lock she desired, he stood, for once catching her slipping as he picked her up to carry the amused siren over his shoulder. She clapped twice to power off nearby lamps plunging her living room in darkness.

. . . .

The Himilayas weren't the dreariest backdrop. Ocean current whipped her face and neck no matter how high a swirling funnel carried her. Each breath took in moisture. She forced herself conscious; its breadth was extreme, glacial, and goaded on by intense winds.

"Have you—gotten them all?" she strained holding the wall of salty wet at bay.

["I'm clearing out a few more buildings. Hang tough."]

Water swirled around the emerald scales coating child-bearing hips reaching from her feet to her wrists. Shining eyes weren't a human standard. Her right hand steady but open even if her fingers were stiff the stark of her red locks flowed like what she could control on a whim. Its mass was too much. She fought against her max output and the endless width of a fervent sea.

"I—can't!" she winced at the agonizing scream of her muscles.

["Yeah you can. Look."]

Not blocking her sight anymore, there it was, stopped. Sweat ran from her blush in beads and she couldn't fathom the how. A few yards from it, the leveling out continued.

["Let go."]

The pounding in her head dire she released her tremendous burden and fell like a wayward rose petal. Right into his arms as his timely arrival caught up to her. Everything was a blur. The atmosphere changed again. It settled. The one she called Superman fell onto dampened sands, taking it slow. He was there when she woke, helping her regain balance.

"See what I mean?" he said putting on worry.

She wondered if it was faked. When she could see clearly the torturous gale was no more. But he was there, draped in colorful tradition, by himself as the curious had yet to come.

"My head feels like I shoved it in a blender," she said.

"Got everyone to the hospital," he said. "Disaster relief choppers are on the way."

A shoreline held their talk but taking a seat was out of the question. Few could sit after such an ordeal.

"We were lucky," she mentioned.

Connor moved to her front and stopped. She could never find intention in his stare. What he wanted to say and how he would was never something she could nail in one go. She was forced to wait for it.

"You haven't noticed?" he asked and as she guessed he gave her nothing.

"How I've been perceived?" she said, her tone as regal as it was enticing. "The Princess of Atlantis working hand in hand with your little team. Trust me. It would be hard to miss. Anything else I should learn?"

"They're calling you Aquawoman. Get used to it," he ribbed. "Apart from that I don't trust Donna, Wally, and J'onn as far as I could throw them, which is pretty damn far."

She smirked, scooping his hand with hers to watch the water's surface. Her hair soaked and being drenched from head-to-toe only accented her gorgeous. Connor lost himself in it until she said, "I'm not hearing the gist."

"— We think you're ready for the real thing, Mera," he said.

"That would mean new and dangerous. Natural disasters are whatever. They happen," she said and he listened. "My people come first, Superman. That was never negotiable."

Connor's glance met the ocean again. The waves competing to flatten out by their standing in place. It grazed their covered toes and he dwelled on it. He had to. It was their lot.

"Three-hundred and twenty-six million cubic miles. You can manipulate more than half of the planet. There is no can we or can't we. If I need to do something, I do it. There are the days of questioning why I bother, sure. Hell, Luthor used to say, "if you do anything other than what you think you're meant to do, you'd be worthless." I am where I am because that was the most logical thing anyone's ever said to me."

Already by his side, titillated, she had no problems getting it. Returning her attention they lingered without concern. Helicopter propellers beat against the air. The scene gained a little more clamor. That was their cue. Those stepping from parked trucks or otherwise barely saw red and green darting out of sight. Readied cameras captured nothing of the sort.

"Donna!"

Ambiguous dreams couldn't take his mind from the night before. She wasn't at his side. Wiping puffy eyes, a sticky note hung from the cream finish of a bedside table. Tearing it free he read the words she jotted, squinting. It was a force of habit to slip on glasses he didn't need:

Left for work. You have free reign of the place. Make up the bed for me. And don't eat all of my food.

He chuckled, shaking his head because the greeting was her brand of droll. Drained, he could sleep for the next twelve hours but he remembered two things: duties and deadlines. Lounging wasn't an option. Thinking about her was, but even that had to wait.

He stood front and center, bare foot and shirtless, loosening his hands and sure he could. One thought and potential blew ripples along his pants and tossed the ends of his obi. Locks of his hair danced with it shifting into a familiar brightness. The calm in his gaze gone as it narrowed. Transparent fire warmed not only the space he used. Mastering the form again was the idea. He exhaled for the sake of success, and relaxed, listening to metal pieces falling for whatever was harder beneath his feet. As the chamber was self-sustained he worried little for the damage. He hushed his laugh and rubbed the tension from the back of his neck.

"Lower the gravity to zero percent," he said feeling like a million bucks.

"VOICE PATTERN CONFIRMED. SUBJECT: SON GOHAN. LOWERING GRAVITATIONAL PULL TO ZERO PERCENT."

Gohan wasn't one to discount the area's timbre; a young woman's, it could sooth in ways he often appreciated. His mood a good one it didn't change until the artificial intelligence shared new information.

"ALERT. SUPERPOWERED ANOMALY DISCOVERED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA."

"How many?"

"ONE. SUBJECT: FEMALE. METAHUMAN. AFFILIATION UNDETERMINED."

"— Record whatever you can to my private logs," he said. Thoughts of Donna had to wait. But he hoped to see her soon. He'd take her over Waller for the inside scoop any day.

*Chapter 8*: Chapter 8

Each member had their seat. Within LexCorp's most important room a few of the six deemed it an afterthought. Addressing from the podium before their table, his L replaced with a glinting U, Connor knew plenty of the other elephant in the room.

"Right, so, who is this chick again?" Flash asked.

"The Princess of Atlantis. Number seven of the seven. Mary's out. She's in," Connor said.

"Does Mary know that?" Wally said.

"Spoke to her yesterday. The only thing she didn't do was jump for joy," Connor grinned. "I told her when she finishes school we'll welcome her back with open arms."

As the floor was open Nightwing had no reservations.

"And she's been thoroughly briefed?" he said doing everything but guess.

He was never so quick to trust, anyone, least of all their newest.

"C'mon Dick. This is me," Connor smiled assuredly. He then glanced to those listening.

"Everyone cool?" he said.

Nods, seeing each others reactions, if there was approval it went unvoiced. He fingered his ear.

"They can come in now," he said.

["Copy that."]

Standing out like a sore thumb four boxed her in; their bodily protection gleaming like shiny, ribbed plates of the finest jade. Bowled helmets with movable visors closed and bevors shielded their necks, meshing with layered seashells for pauldrons. Green Lantern and Wonder Woman stepped out of the way. The Atlantean princess emerged confident that she belonged. That she was worthy. They fell under her scrutiny. Her scaled, diving suit revealed terra cotta flesh, and an ample cleavage. Three ends of her diadem sparkled, not something Donna should envy, though it was just as majestic. One of her personal guard thought to proceed her.

"Justice League. Paragons of the surface realm. You honor us, and our princess by allowing this intrusion on your affairs. It is our greatest pleasure to present the second child of Queen Atlanna. The Jewel of Xebel—Princess Mera of Atlantis."

Moving aside her men pulled a chair situated before she arrived. She sat as her air spurred the right amount of intrigue.

"I appreciate the hospitality," she said.

Donna couldn't explain the churn of her stomach. She kept a watchful eye on fellow royalty.

"And I won't take up too much of your time," Mera finished.

"We're more than pleased to receive you, Princess Mera. Was there anything else you wanted to know?" Connor asked.

Mera put on cordiality as she noticed Donna's unease. It curved her lips.

"Not at the moment," she said. "Please don't think me a burden. I assume Donna can relate in that my people simply wish to understand yours. We share this world. Whether we like it or not."

His demeanor upbeat, Wally shrugged.

"Don't worry. We're lowbrow here. Unless you're Kyle. Too many women and not enough Vitaros. Expect him to hit on you," he jabbed.

The butt of the joke Kyle flipped him off.

"Haters gonna hate," he retorted. "We all know why they call you the fastest man alive."

Mera's pleasant chuckle for their banter, she focused on those keeping quiet. Blank-faced and inattentive Dick and J'onn said all of two words.

"Fellas," Connor smirked capturing Kyle and Wally's attention. "There's a floor with a living quarters. You can unpack there."

Mera eyeballed the room like it was some unclean thing, not worthy of her breathing in it let alone occupying.

"Thank you, Connor," she said.

Rising, if ever she moved, her subjects moved. They found the adjoined elevator as it closed them out of the conversation.

"Meet me later," Nightwing said to Connor, already mobile.

Wonder Woman couldn't help herself. Connor's new crest, his new attitude, there was no putting a finger on something like it. Martian Manhunter kept his distance though if Connor noticed at all, it didn't show.

"Meeting adjourned guys. Stay out of trouble," he grinned. "Wonder Woman—you'll swing by my office in a bit?"

"Sure thing," Donna said.

Wanting to speak with her Wally and J'onn were the last of anyone present.

"— What the hell was that?" Wally asked. He ran a hand through his hair yet it didn't help him nor the baffled Donna unwind.

"This is the most lax he's been. Ever," she said setting hands on her hips. "No ego. Patience. Humility?"

"His mind is an elaborate maze," J'onn chimed. "And he has yet to speak with me of my absence making his behavior all the more curious."

Donna glanced around. She focused on the JL, emblazoned and a reminder, joining their alma mater on two of the four walls. She didn't have to worry of ears catching wind of whatever she thought to say.

"Eyes open," she suggested. The warning rang loud and clear no matter how she used her inside voice. The Flash followed Martian Manhunter's lead as they discussed what they chose to. Wonder Woman let it die, worried more for the when. She didn't buy anything Connor was selling.

. . . .

There was the burning question: what did antsy metas do in their spare time? The most powerful men and women in the world. When there were no problems to tend to and the day was considered slow the answer was simple: sex and-or fight clubs. The latter wasn't the most harmless of fun but it took the edge off. Several cheered outside of a room where the strongest could let loose without the worry of leveling the block. A few placed their bets.

He glanced to all corners of the generous space he felt like a hamster in. It was his first visit. He saw the sturdiest barriers to four sides. The shape of the room wasn't cubic nor spherical. A weapon rack looked no different from a hologram but the implements were real and just as hazardous. His opponent chose a hefty blade. She held a soft spot for swords. She pointed its sharpest end towards him confident victory would be hers.

"Choose your weapon," she said.

He did so with a grin looking to his choices and not finding anything to his liking. He wasn't one to use firearms, hammers nor axes. The length of a rod entered his view. Gripping it, he had a question.

"You sure they won't break?" he asked.

"They're hard-light," she said. "Not so much Lantern construct durable but they work."

They took some time to position themselves hearing the yells in the background. The sound of enthusiasm in getting to see what those in the know questioned. One of them kept a careful watch, an analytical one, using the room's shadows as cover and expertly so.

"I'll come at you with the intent to kill."

He had to smile, knowing she meant every word.

"Let's just see what happens."

He spun his staff bringing it to stillness as he lowered himself and his balance. She spread her legs, shoulders-width apart, hands around the fake grip she squeezed up and to the hilt. She jumped into a rush with her sword drawn quickly bringing it to his weapon scraping up sparks before she sliced at his neck and he swept at her feet. She turned her body to leap away pausing at a safe distance, the balls of her feet against the wall. Knees bent she straightened them to propel from it. He vanished reappearing with the slam of his staff against her sword. If he shoved, she shoved back.

"I forget how strong you are!" he said.

"Let me remind you!" she said.

She pressed her fist into his nose swinging her blade once more to lop his head off. He used the opening to push the tip of his staff into her stomach as she swiped. Their weapons met in fast, heavy taps. Skill tried at besting skill. Those watching felt a trembling of where they were in harsh spurts! Her blade dropped from an overhead slash opening the middle of his rod. Their weapons thought to be indestructible, flickered out. He punched at the straight she tossed and blocked her response as she blocked his. Trading three follow up blows, then three more, his spinning kick sent her away. Her back met a wall, folding it. She shifted over dodging his arriving boot. Lifting her leg as she turned it struck his cheek turning him into a spiral. They clashed in airborne crosses, twice. She grappled in her next pass tackling him to the floor to rain two punches into his palms. He clamped her knuckles his hardest.

"Is that it?" he chuckled.

She smiled a winsome smile, pleased with her position of dominance, struggling to free herself. She slammed her head to his not once, but twice, cracking what they sat on. His shout forced her from him. Her legs rose as a twist swinging her to her feet. She recognized the essence. The intensity it gave off. The way his hair always stood erect and shimmered with it. Their audience once boisterous stood quiet.

"You ready for round two?" he said.

He laughed at her looking like she'd seen an apparition. To him, she was the wonder; a new addition to her breastplate was the leather jacket unzipped over it. Any jeweled, ornamental band worn at the front of her hair suited her and its star mold was no exception. Donna stepped back, anxious to test him further.

"Bring it," she said balling one upturned fist to her side and turning one opened palm to her front.

A finger snap could never outpace him. Each of his hits rattled her bones. Trying to keep up with him remained difficult. Their audience goaded them on once more not put off by the shaking. The blood drops beneath their steps. One decided to take his leave. He'd seen, and gathered, what he wanted. An underground secret shook again on his way out.

["— The electromagnetic pulse generated will disrupt the frequency used. It's at its most effective within a thirty foot range."]

A master detective gaped at footage of not just a known genius and father figure. The feed from a company, Fox Incorporated, kept, yet all intrigue was on the molecular breakdown of a hair strand. Creatures of the night screeched above. The grotto's sleek held their hang from lengthy claws.

"Not bad, Lucius," he said without looking.

["Was there, something else that required my attention?"]

He continued an analysis, not answering, lost in the important bits.

"I'll let you know."

Trusted more than anything was a non-sentient. The help arrived with a silver platter and wisdom to boot.

"Avoiding seven hours, Master Dick?"

"Learning," Dick said. "His metabolism is the key. It's partially the reason he'll age much slower than I do, if at all."

"That would mean his potential is not unlike Master Connor's."

"— As for Mera. She can swim faster than three-hundred miles per hour, dead lift seventy tons on her worst day and psychically manipulate water, able to make it soft as a feather or harder than steel. Only seventy-one percent of the Earth is ocean, so, no worries there."

His aide turned from his sarcasm to place a tray elsewhere. Dick ceased his work to remove his mask setting it through a projected keyboard. He leaned into the minor comfort of his seat's leather.

"On his own Connor could destroy us all in less than a week. Every person of every nation. Gohan doubles the concept. The only reason I get any sleep is their being half human. That makes them predictable," he said.

"Perhaps your time would be better spent leaving your own shadow. I think a vacation is in order! Shall I make the arrangements and inform your current girlfriend?" it asked, as concerned as its programming allowed.

"— Sweep and scrub when I'm done here, Alfred. Don't keep anything useless."

"As you wish, sir."

Dick glanced from A.L.F.R.E.D.'s almost gelatin shell. He could hear every turn, every click of its innards, but his attention fell to the blue-black coating his fitness. He donned his mask once more and ignored its snapping in place. Work attracted him back to it. A.L.F.R.E.D. took its leave hoping truth could sink in. But even it knew the mind of the man it helped sire wasn't so easily unset.

Like much of Metropolis, Centennial Park at night held just as much beauty as it did size. Winding paths, large ponds and different forms of architecture littered throughout eight-hundred and forty-three acres. Dressed down and hoping to breathe easy she kept close to him for their amble nowhere.

"Freeza?" she scoffed. "Your bad guys had the corniest names."

"Heh, maybe," he said. "Even so, it doesn't get much worse than him."

Donna looked to lamps granting light to the area.

"I pride myself on being the best. The Amazons claim I was created to be," she said somewhat regretful.

"You miss it? Themyscira?" he asked.

"That goes without saying," she said.

Gohan hung on to any fable she thought to share. The sights surrounding them brightened, coupled with cricket chirps, skyscrapers loomed over the treeline were a constant stage. He and the looker on his arm began a count of the stars until he glanced for her civvies.

"Why were you banished?" he asked suddenly.

"— I wasn't," she said. "Do you ever feel like running away? Just suddenly leaving. No note, no warning. Just getting your shit, and leaving. That was me. The Titans were new. Exotic."

"Another life?" he guessed.

"Exactly," she nodded.

He caught on quickly and felt just as rotten.

"Sorry for bringing it up," he said.

"Honestly. I'm glad you did," she said.

She wanted to admire him. And did. A little longer than she thought to.

"Those weren't criminals," she smiled.

"You mean the fight club? I know," he said. "I can actually feel who the good guys are and aren't. Or I used to. Here, the lines are kind of blurred."

Donna's lips were his to watch. She didn't take her gaze from Gohan's long enough to notice.

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here. A sweet, innocent couple out for a stroll in Centennial Park. That's pretty stupid if you ask me."

Several circling thought to sour the mood. Donna rolled her eyes and huffed her frustration.

"Gamiménoi ilíthioi," she said. A few brandished knives. A few exposed tucked away pistols.

"What's that shit? Roman?" one mouthed off. "Handle her dude first. I wanna take my time with this fine ass bitch."

She cracked her knuckles, having gauged their numbers and vital areas. The many, many ways in which she could inflict pain.

"Gohan. They plan on hurting me," she said.

"They do?!" he smirked.

Wanting in on the joke was too tempting.

"Wait, you're—you're that guy. And oh shit. Yo—yo that's Wonder Woman!"

They tried running only to see the pair appear wherever they decided to. Sitting the rest of it out, Donna found a comfortable bench to watch as Gohan systematically took apart their bravado, despite their slashing and shooting at nothing. They fired rounds into his hand as it moved faster than the bullets traveled. He slowly walked them into a cowering bundle.

"Please! Don't kill us bro! We was just messing with you!"

"Kill you? You're lucky. She's the one with the temper," he said pointing to her cool and collected.

"Should I take them out?" he asked.

"Come on. Where's the fun in that?" she said.

His targets flinched at the gust blowing at his steadfast. Where they stood rocked, along with anything else not nailed down. His playing around brought them from their feet with bits of dirt and nothing to grab onto. An ending flash sent them flying. He turned at the sound of her golf claps. She looked to their swimming frantically to the opposite end of a pond. A few tripped over themselves as they wobbled from it in a hurry to be anywhere else. At his side again, her arm lacing his, neither had a care in the world. They appreciated what was left of the downtime.

His scar itched more than usual. Climbing the chipped wood of his porch he unlocked and stepped into warmth. He turned on its sole light and checked the thermostat, as she took a seat on worn cashmere. Quickly changing, Gohan returned pulling on a faded t-shirt. Donna stole a glance at his washboard stomach before it was gone. At his sitting they wouldn't speak and didn't have to. Her shoulder against his the pleasure was the cinnamony smell of her sweater and leggings as she kicked mid-calf boots from her feet. He stifled a laugh at the sight of her varicolored socks.

"Not one word," she said.

"That's so you," he said.

He didn't hunch as he stared off.

"I knew I felt something. You guys have a new buddy," he said. "I'm guessing you're not thrilled."

"She's actually a lot nicer than I expected," she differed.

Gohan accepted their day-to-day. Living on his own for a time left him disillusioned. It triggered his standing up. He turned uncertainty to his guest.

"Heard from Selina," he said. "She's in Glasgow. I'm supposed to behave while she's gone. As expected I haven't the slightest clue of what she's up to. It just struck me as odd because according to her, we're not official."

Donna rose. Her face eventually stopped an inch from his.

"You say that like we've already done the deed," she said.

"I know," he said. "I'd like to."

"And would that be just blowing off steam? Or something else," she said.

Neither for yielding, Gohan slid his caress along her cheek.

"Only an idiot would look at what we do when we're together and call it platonic," he said. It was the most direct she'd ever heard him speak.

"It's not about choosing but if I had to, well," he added.

Donna's eyes bounced from his chest to his face, then back again.

"You're right," she said calmly. "My bad."

"Don't worry about it."

As they shared in good spirits, she flicked his cheek. In brevity the two laughed and said nothing. Indecisiveness took them back. There were better days. The quiet lasted longer than it should've. Imaginations ran wild. Their lips were slower to meet. As they had, he kissed her firmly, begging her silently to open for him. Their tongues moved together though he was unhurried. Donna trapped his head between her arms, pulling him in.

["Wonder Woman."]

"— You have got, to be kidding me," Donna griped as her mouth had yet to fully abandon his. She reluctantly tapped the device she forgot to take out of her ear.

"Go ahead," she said.

["I have a favor to ask. I'd rather do it in person. You mind checking with Gohan to see if we can use his b.o.o.?"]

"Right after you apologize for assuming I'm with the jerk," she grinned.

Gohan didn't mind the minty fresh of her breath tapping his chin. He pressed his lips to her forehead, if only to keep her centered. He could look down to see her supported bosom pressing the flat of his chest. His fingers slid to her back and down so that they were cupping her two rounded, delicious arcs. He squeezed tentatively.

"He has his hands full at the moment, but I'll ask," she said. "Wonder Woman, out."

"Don't tell me," he said.

"We're on the clock," she said backing from him, letting her touch slide from his chest to his stomach.

She left him cold in the warmest room of his cabin. Gohan heard the close of a bathroom door. When Donna returned it was to an inaudible living room. Being alone with him, in his place, at that moment, was temptation. Getting ready was twofold. As both were, they set life aside, a tad at odds with the unexpected cockblock.

. . . .

They clutched automatic rifles and scowled for the hassle. Shipping crates lined the main deck. Some of them smoked to pass the time as they thought little of what they kept within the crates. One of their ranks happened to look into the sky. Looking into the sky, day or night, meant one of two things.

"— Cadowgu! Cadowgu!"

His comrades heard the fear as they trained all sights. Their leader in control of the captain's deck barked the order to wait. A new arrival was correct in his guess. Not that he needed to be. He could pinpoint each expand of their lungs regardless of his place in the world. Loud horns put them on alert. They scrutinized everything about him; the effortless levitation and the bright of a U matching his hoodless cloak. Disdain set on the murderers and kidnappers below. He fell, easily, waiting for them to pull the trigger. It was more fun that way. When he left the sky he walked toward one of the crates ripping a door free and tossing it aside, its shriek from the friction of heavy metal on metal.

He knew he'd see the deceased piled like rotting fish. The sight was much like the stench. What he didn't see pissed him off. His attention burning fiercely, it set on those he'd blame. Frantic gunfire didn't even the odds. He snapped limbs with a powerful blitz tearing some from the bodies he threw around. They fired at the motion, or tried to, hot ammunition bouncing from his speeding to and fro. Defeating twenty-five and lunging into a soar one leader and his followers threatened to shoot as they were short on options. He remained before the chamber an angry "god" intent to get on with it.

"Dhaqaaqo oo waxaan iyagii u dilaan?!"

Lightning could never strike faster; their guns were in pieces, they were wet smudges on the wall, and it happened in less than a second. His float into an opening was to set his feet down.

["Did you find them?"]

"Not for lack of trying. The lead encasing almost worked," he said. Connor's deadpan didn't lessen his handsome as he sifted through blood-splattered folders.

"I thought we took care of the rest," he said.

["Relax. We'll discuss it later. Possibly over dinner?"]

"Sounds good. Do your thing," he said. He jumped to carry himself back, out, and up, stopping at an altitude he was used to. Glancing for the sea it was given a mind of its own. A tiny figure suspended herself over the surface gritting her teeth and raising her hands to command two, towering swaths. Neither end would even drip unless she thought they should. As she clapped, the water folded, smacking the cruiser with tons of pressure. Twisting and pulling it into the freezing depths it sank for wherever the bottom began.

["Done."]

"Nice work," he said taking himself to her. He didn't leave the air, nor she the water, until their embrace. As they rose their attention fell to nature's covering their tracks. Connor admired the vivid green of Mera's eyes when she offered them.

"That's one way to make your bones," he said.

"No, dear. That was a sample," she said. She wet his lips with her fingertips, softly dragging them to cup his hard chin. Grinning mischievously spoke volumes. And with that they left the scene as a swoosh snapping the air.

He truly was the fastest. His sprint was an effortless jog. To him. To everyone else it was electrically-charged red and silver chopping up miles in seconds. The path he stepped up happened, as he happened. An arid temperature leaving several with dry mouths the Amazon was next crossing her bracers as a clap to blast away where she stood. She hopped to hover from its caving in, arcing as she took off in an effort to keep it from falling towards the bottom and link it to the speedster's accomplishment. The third kept himself and a giant contraption above it all.

"Ready?" he said.

"Let 'er rip," she smiled.

Gohan tipped his burden to pour gallons, chilled and purified. Wonder Woman found her place in the sky. Those below replied with no words, only cheers. Flash left the speed of sound to stop with a thumbs-up, and his best friend couldn't help himself.

"Let's hope it lasts," Gohan smiled eyeing the water's flowing the length of it.

He and Donna dropped planting feet on barren and dusty as Wally engaged those in charge, showing off the fruits of their labor. As was typical, Gohan drew onlookers. He shook hands with the adults. Made funny faces at the young. Donna looked nothing short of a breathing myth carrying herself as nothing close to one. She took a knee to greet a pretty little, bow-legged admirer, and the family she clung to.

Wally approached to get it off his chest. "They'll take it from here. I needed this."

"Likewise. What do we do now?" Gohan asked.

"Yes. What will you do now?"

As Flash knew, his was the first response.

"Gorilla Grodd," he said.

"Step aside, boy. We came for the one with you."

Grodd's "we" were all of hulking apes relying on golden chainmail. Their leader, the biggest, brawniest and as it stood, most intelligent, was also the only one able to sneer.

"On second thought," he said. And as he thought most around him listened. Every one of the villagers.

"Flash," Gohan said.

"On it," Wally said and he was gone before Gohan drew his next breath.

He felt their feeble attempts to grab. Frothing at the mouths not their doing Donna stood firm as Grodd's soldiers circled. She didn't reach for her weapons. The lasso stayed put, as did accessories that were never pieces of jewelry to flaunt. She didn't tense at their beating the dirt with spear bottoms and crazed animation. What little of their uncovered skin she could see was flexed and hard as a girder.

"You also resist my psionic powers. Interesting. But your mental barriers are fading, Son Gohan. Time is against you."

Grodd watched with eerie patience as Gohan held off an onslaught of those trying to contain him. He confined his strength to marginal, then disappeared, forming into view above the madness.

"On my signal, Donna!" he said.

His attackers below were waiting with vacant stares but his attention rested on Grodd. And in the blink of an eye, he stood at his front. Raising a hand those Grodd controlled jerked still.

"What do you want from me?" Gohan asked.

"To prove a point," Grodd said.

["You're good to go."]

If Grodd's flashing his fangs stopped—Gohan's grin was the reason.

"Guess what. Flash just ran around the world to find whatever it is you use to control minds. You're no meta. You're just a zoo escapee with a fancy toy."

Grodd's snarls a product of his true nature he glared as every bit of his bulk tightened.

"Bring me his HEAD!" he growled.

"Now Wonder Woman!" Gohan said.

He stood before the blameless not quite coming to their senses. Grodd's soldiers tossed the earth with their charging. Donna quickly gripped a thick neck. Not giving him the chance she bludgeoned his comrades, then flung him like a ragdoll getting on her nerves. Gohan's blows were quick, restrained, bringing them to furry knees for her to finish. He placed two fingers under a massive swing into a pressure point. His swift kicks touched the bodies of three more dropping them against their noses and hearing the cracks. He took a hand placed on his person swinging what grabbed him over his body and into anything in its path. Eleven remained. One lasso toss clutched a wrist and pulling too hard dislocated a shoulder before tearing from an arm's socket. Donna gained her proof of an inkling.

"They're not alive?!" she said.

One spear tip slid by her weaving from it only to pop from its wielder, now hers to spin, she swiped two more closing fast. She dove higher than their rush. Turning over to accent her pirouette upside down then right side up she fell a few yards from where she started. The sharp whistle of her weapon's dangerous side stopped from a twirl at her back. Gohan engaged their leader. Grodd's missed punches shattered the dryness as did brow-aimed kinetic blasts hitting harder than cannon bursts. Back in the fold Flash turned his arms so quickly the rush scattering their opponents was nothing short of a monsoon's. Taken up, each of them dropped for her line of sight. The blade sheathed by her thigh able to cleave through the tiniest atom Donna clenched its grip. Contrary to popular belief her father wasn't Zeus. She always thought the notion laughable.

Moving quicker than he could hurl his fiercest bolts was no old wives' tale. Stopping her attack run on one knee, her sword arm held straight, the gorillas facing where she left stood paralyzed. She rose her turn to see spears breaking apart, their bodies cracking to throw up rancid dust, their splitting in two gradual she slid her xiphos back where it rested as Flash darted through each, zigging and zagging, his stance at her right before what was left of them could touch down.

Gohan parried Grodd's lunge. Planting his hand behind his head slammed the ground with his skull. But the people mattered more. Grodd's grip on the weak a memory he coughed blood and woke to a glare standing over him.

"Sorry about this," Gohan said.

He flicked his chop at Grodd's nape leaving him to witness nothing. It was then the affected came to.

"Freaky Friday."

Wally walked up with a sigh.

"What did you do?" Gohan asked.

"Grodd's, like, a c-list telepath. See his stupidly large head? There's a chip in his brain. It gives off a residual trail to the source so wherever he goes, it goes. Turn off the power, turn off the monkey. Works every time."

Donna thought the giant gorilla snoring at their feet was everything but a challenge. The trio moved for the village, and its people, intact. Grodd secured, his forces reduced to wet ash calling in support wasn't so much an option as it was a guarantee. They could always rely on S.T.A.R. Labs; a sometimes clean-up service in league with the League. Gohan watched any and everyone, closely. Especially the detaining of a metacriminal he'd never seen before.

*Chapter 9*: Chapter 9

She had a perfect view of the River Clyde; the second-longest in Scotland. The Clyde Arc of the finest polymer her post was at the highest point of its bowstring, asymmetrical tied arch. The bridge's lights rising each were dimmed as her goggles outlined the IFSD in steady maroon. Four lines tracked a four-wheeled target.

"Ah ha," she said.

Standing, she aimed the top of her wrist for the point she hoped to hit. The pop leaving her glove twisting it snagged one of the beams connecting the arch to the bridge. She jumped, her fall curving and to help it along she straightened her legs. Momentum flung her into Glasgow's Financial District. Cutting through the air for the closest rooftop missing a beat wasn't an option. She smacked it with a roll into a sprint. Pacing herself, diving over a skylight into another roll she bent her knees leaning back to slide under raised piping. Her last step met a ledge before a push from the ball of her boot.

Yanking a quick shot, she relaxed, spiraling through a narrow passage and free of it to fire her next, her swing turned before she leaned forward. The van she tailed unaware of the chase its driver didn't exceed the speed limit. They wouldn't hear the soft thump nor her digging in claws through the roof for stability. She pushed her goggles above her stare, thought to smile for her pleasure and took her whip from her side. She had to swing her arm down and across to snap the glass on the driver's side to pieces. Shards flew into unprotected eyes, but by then, she was inside knocking his partner's teeth out and choking the life from him.

"Driving while conspicuous, boys?!" she hissed.

She steered it for parked cars stepping the brake so hard a quick turn of the steering wheel lifted it from its tires. Selina was the only one to emerge, kicking a mobster's bloodied face from the horn to silence it. What she wanted was in the back. Opening the hind doors, which were nearly folded in, its rectangular shape was more silver briefcase than luggage.

["— Is it done?"]

"You're just in time, Nightwing," she said, composed. "This, again, was too loud for my tastes."

["It's also something I can't refuse. As much as it pains me to say, I owe you one."]

"You do," she said believing her opinion first. "I'll overnight it. Might even throw in a bonus."

["No wanting in on the take?"]

"Not if it involves foul play. I meant what I said about Gohan."

["You know that clean slate Waller keeps waving in front of your face?"]

"How could I forget?"

["What if I said you could have it soon? Like next week soon."]

"— You drive a hard bargain," she beamed as getting her way was too familiar. "What's the catch?"

["Favors for favors, Selina. Go have a drink. Get laid. Whatever it is you do after a job. See you stateside."]

Taking it in hand she already knew she was alone. She just didn't know what to make of it. The structures she stood between newly renovated it was too late for even anyone working a night shift to do so. She walked like she owned the street leaving her handy work behind, and could, as there was next-to-no evidence she was the cause.

. . . .

There, they were Son Gohan and, as most knew her, Wonder Woman. His base of operations had its own monitor. Its monitor had its flickering triangles shrinking in on crisis points and not much else. As the cowl-removed Flash walked himself, and his snack, into the discussion, the content of peers was what he hoped to see.

"Waller might have a heart after all. You check the pantry? Three flavors of Doritos. Three!" he said lacking subtlety.

"You're welcome to spend the night," Gohan smiled. "Granted you don't eat me out of house and home."

"Mfmfm frm stufmm," Wally mumbled through stuffed cheeks and falling crumbs. "Super-speed means super-metabolism. Birds of a feather, Go."

"Meaning you both have a problem," Donna needled.

Gohan took his good mood toward the nearest panel. He stayed in place, Donna and Wally at his back to hear him out.

"So if Grodd's behavior was abnormal—maybe it's our guy again," he said as he typed.

New information to save learning the tech was a chore, but he needed to. He enjoyed flexing his mental brawn.

"He's been quiet," he continued. "Even if the League hasn't. That being said I'm not sure I care for how they operate."

"It's how things work here, Gohan," Donna repeated.

Hearing her words got his attention as did her gentle squeeze of his shoulder.

"C'mon, Wally. Back me up on this," Gohan said as by then Wally remained to his left with little to speak on.

"Donna's right. Those are the breaks. You think we haven't tried hashing it out? Connor and Dick do what they do. Kyle's just happy to be on the starting lineup. At this point they're so used to it I'm not sure they could stop if they wanted."

They knew. He was still the learner. Gohan's disbelief kept and Donna let the men speak.

"The preferred way's great. When it works. I say we provide an alternative," Gohan said.

"To what?" Wally asked.

"The League," Gohan replied in all seriousness. "No Waller. No seven. Just us being what they should be."

"Donna," Wally glanced, the most uncomfortable with any talk of it.

"Take on the League," Donna said blankly. "Us and what army?"

"We've got J'onn. Maybe your sisters if it gets crazy. Look I'm not saying we march up to LexCorp and start something we can't finish. I'm just saying we shouldn't rule it out. One day, we might not have a choice because they might not give us one."

As Wally was the first to make himself scarce he did so at his own pace and in quiet. Slow rarely his forte, he ambled off, the main chamber's door dropping behind his denial.

"I'll talk to him," Donna sighed.

She then wormed her stare into Gohan's. But his wasn't so certain.

"Where's this coming from?" she said needing the truth.

"— Africa. We were proactive instead of reactive. Back home I fought to survive. It was do or die. But here? I can prevent the repeat. And I'll be damned if anyone else suffers what I had to," he said and his stare never left the area's second exit.

It soon did, as Donna withheld her reply. Both of his tops weren't able to hide his shoulders tensing. Her cupping his face was to win him back.

"You're serious," she said faintly.

"I can't let it happen again. Not to you," he said giving her somber eye contact she didn't question.

She kept her hand around his nape running fingers through where the hair started. Reassuring as it was to have her that close all he could think of were the people he'd lost.

. . . .

Wonder Woman was never just a title. Her duty's criteria was never confined to any one set of checks and balances. Her morning good, because she favored optimism, she used a laptop she didn't have the heart to tell her co-workers was primitive. Her standards could never be theirs by default. One of them knocked before entering the cramped of her office. Balding, overweight, he took a seat on her escritoire to notice the obvious. It was his choice to see the collared shirt under her blazer. And the hollow between the bountiful chest it nearly hid.

"Smiling works wonders, princess. I'm starting to think you're not a fan of what we have you doing," he said trying sarcasm no matter how corny.

"Deep down I'm all smiles," she said with one he could see. "Sorry if I look less than thrilled. It's been a week from Hades."

"We've all been there. Do Something can't work without it's poster girl. Our earnings nearly doubled after you volunteered. This charity needed it."

"Tell the boyfriend that," she grinned thinking of the night before. "He supports anything I do. Encourages it like no one else. His past doesn't let him be anything but overprotective, and at times, a tad paranoid. Sorry twice. I'm rambling."

He chuckled before reaching. "That just sounds like he cares. Here's hoping he won't mind a pick-me-up."

He was slow to pull one from his pocket. Accepting it she reached past velvety cloth.

"Please tell me this is chocolate," she said.

"Not quite," he watched on pens and needles. Her prize were diamond earrings, sitting fixed when she opened the case she dug for.

"It's a token of our appreciation. Running you ragged warrants it."

"Nathan, I, I can't accept this," she struggled.

"Yes. You can. And you're going to," Nathan bossed. His grin confident, and as expensive, he believed it would work.

"Were you free later? I thought dinner could be a practical compliment."

Donna looked from him, flattered, but quicker to put the jewelry aside.

"That's sweet of you but I really just want to go home when I'm done here. Curl up in a ball and sleep for a month."

"Teh. Wonder Woman needing sleep. That's rich," he shrugged as he almost took the hint. "Well. The offer still stands if you change your mind."

Donna put on friendly but they both heard the tread of tires. Out hopped men and women shielded by riot gear from darker vehicles, automatic weapons primed and in tow. They walked briskly through sliding doors sending her co-workers into a panic. Nathan wouldn't make it to hers before they breached kicking it in and aiming what they brought.

"Donna Troy. By order of A.R.G.U.S. Director Amanda Waller, you're under arrest. Keep your hands where we can see them."

"Where's your warrant?!" Nathan puffed his chest out. "You can't come in here and threaten her without proper documentation!"

Trying their patience he backed from balaclavas and stoicism, hands raised and suddenly compliant. Donna stood nowhere near as roused at the issue.

"It's alright, Nathan," she said indifferently.

One of the agents took hold of steely dampeners; electric, pressurized, and both clamped tight around her bracers. They led her from the building as those she worked with froze. What she did was the only mystery to anyone not in the know.

His garb matched his fortitude. Above the floor next to him was a digital visage; a facial structure like his girlfriend's though "perfection" was harder to replicate. Her pupils scanned his push against a flat handle, the machine it attached to gauging strength and recording the relevant data. Defined muscle under a layer stressed because the burden was extreme.

"I HAVE RUN EXHAUSTIVE TESTS. YOU ARE NOW PUSHING AGAINST THE EQUIVALENT OF THREE-HUNDRED THOUSAND TONS."

"Don't know if I should celebrate—just yet," he huffed.

Freeing his breath he took his hand from the object he was unable to move. Looking to a fist when it closed he didn't know what to make of recent development. He gave three-dimensional keeping an eye on him joviality.

"Maybe I can take it even further," he said.

"I AM SORRY TO RUIN YOUR GOOD MOOD."

"What is it?"

"DONNA TROY HAS BEEN APPREHENDED."

"What? By who?!"

The pellucid face of his AI emotionless "her" next feat was the formation of a window he could listen to.

["— breaking into the Metropolis branch of S.T.A.R. Labs two days ago. She then proceeded to slaughter staff members working the night shift, destroying anything in her path to, as our sources claim, "rid man's world of Dr. Hamilton's wicked practices in the name of science." The renowned geneticist barely escaped with his life as— ]

"AGENTS REPRESENTING A.R.G.U.S. ARRIVED AT THE CHARITY ORGANIZATION, DO SOMETHING, THREE HOURS AND TWENTY-SEVEN MINUTES AGO."

"Donna would never," he glared at nothing. "I have to —"

"I KNOW. I RECOMMEND HASTE."

"Right," he smiled briefly.

He brought himself into a delayed rise. His float progressed to an entrance, and beyond that, a tunnel leading to out and straight up. The ground opened to allow his leave as he burst into the air stretching the stiffness from his form. He rediscovered euphoria. A bit of eagerness until he assumed control. He thought of circumstance, Donna's arrest, and how to process the impact of both.

She knew he'd show up pissed. And it wasn't the first time he held himself above their headquarters. She and her agents jumped aside as a drone folded in half scraped up dirt in its skid. Waller snapped a glance from ruined government property to the one who hurled it.

"Goddammit! You know how much that thing cost?!" she barked.

"I trusted you, Amanda. When everyone said not to," Gohan voiced loudly.

His boots hit the earth lifting some around his steps as Waller's agents prepared every weapon, handheld, manned, or otherwise and locked on.

"All of you stand the hell down!" she ordered hoping for civil.

As she turned back around he was there. With the leer. He didn't care who or what circled him as he wanted hers to meet the narrowing of his.

"We already know Wonder Woman wasn't responsible for what happened at S.T.A.R. I've got people feeding the press whatever bullshit they have to. I'll take you to her. But first, I need you to cool it," she said with caution on the brain.

She wasn't stupid and he wasn't careless. He heard the clicks, he could smell the stink of cordite, of gunpowder not yet leaving so many barrels.

"I've had it with the Justice League. One of their key members is framed and they don't even lift a finger to help!" he said.

"I told them to do nothing. Because I don't need the PR headache!" she said playing diplomatic. "I want you on this."

Appealing to a sense of integrity could work and she wasted no time. It always worked. Gohan could spot a similar fire in Waller's arresting eyes. He had to give her credit for how steady they were.

"You've got ten minutes," he said in favor of peace. An S-Class level nightmare walked next to their boss. As he didn't, her agents never loosened up, but they kept close. Several entered the contemporary-futuristic of her agency, leaving several more with nary a lull. She had eight minutes left.

He sat with a saint's patience. Lock clanks denoted an arrival. Shuffled in was a confidant. She was also dehydrated. If there were any other physical ailments they couldn't shun her good looks nor would they ever. Constricting metal around her forearms and ankles bothered him. They didn't care if anyone watched her taking his hands when she sat. He wrestled with the most annoying sentiments.

"Did they hurt you?" he asked.

"You know they can't," she said with a head shake.

Gohan noticed they provided her with a drab jumpsuit. One that couldn't wholly mute Donna's talents.

"Complying makes me look good and them comfortable, so," she said smirking to herself.

"— You should hear the newscasts. The three-sixty is nuts. First you're a murderer. Now you're a victim. Sometimes I hate the media. If I still had access to the Dragon Balls I'd wish away all of it."

His attempt to make her smile was a success. More so rough the also soft of her palms brought him relief.

"You need anything?" he asked in typical fashion.

At ease she looked to her lap, shutting her eyes.

"No," she said in standing. "Waller claims I should stay at the agency until this thing is sorted out."

"With that crap around your wrists? No way," he said.

"That's what I said. According to her me staying is a help. Don't worry. No siphoners and no cell," she assured.

Agents wrapped in blacker tri-weave tensed by the room's exit, exhaling when they noticed her only wanting to slink next to him. Her grab was the lightest when she pulled his head against her stomach holding it there as she looked to his scalp.

"You smell like Vaseline and bubble gum," she said needing a laugh and needing his more.

"Blame the pressure chamber," he grinned. "It wasn't like I thought to shower on the way here."

Another moment of silence was for dwelling on better fortune.

"Gods you're a pain in the ass," she said. "Why are you here, Gohan?"

His attention rose.

"I have issues?"

That gained another smile.

"What was I supposed to do? Just let it happen? You've got friends in your corner, Donna. Real ones. Not ones pretending when it suits them."

She stroked his cheek as a single tear rolled along hers. She held breaking down at bay as she was a warrior first. They thought over past mistakes. But it wasn't so easy to throw caution to the wind. His next statement gave her greater pause. Greater reservation about how to proceed.

"I don't abandon people I love," he said. "The proof was sacrificing myself once. I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

Donna examined him like he was a rare find and she met her wits end with denial. Pulling his head against her stomach a second time, he wouldn't profess. The danger they represented alone, or as a pair, was a terrifying notion. To the experienced leader watching they were upstarts with too much power. Waller, nowhere near that room, couldn't help but ruminate on their faculty. She didn't think to ignore one of numerous camera feeds. All she had to do was speak.

["Gohan. I'm sending someone to meet you. Someone you can trust. They'll be joining you for the investigation."]

They caught the agents whom were once stiff and neutral moving aside. The door's shooting up and there the "it" was: a she, a twin, a hybrid. Leg-baring, figure-hugging, her long-sleeved leotard kept an opening on the chest. She knew her baby blues and the snipped blonde falling to her jawline drew less attention. Most of anybody compared her "assets" to a national treasure. She didn't coin the thought.

"— Karen?" Gohan and Donna murmured expecting everything but.

Karen's dimpled smile could light the room, and did.

"He was right on the money, princess. Some of us do have your back."

. . . .

Explosive-gel blew away a door of steel. He wasn't as durable yet he moved like it. The earpiece they used was never invasive; smaller than a quarter, active most of the time, he pressed a gloved fingertip to it.

"GL. I need that sitrep."

["We've got hostiles in the west wing. No sign of her."]

"Great. Ultra?"

["Clearing the east wing now."]

Slots opened on the walls to extend cannons. Years of training his body to its pique came in handy. He dove aside tossing what he dubbed "wing-dings", boomerang-shaped, and some thinking to mock the name usually lost their lives. Two sliced through the nozzles arcing back for a place to stop between his fingers. He gained a moment to get to his feet. The only thing in his way were the hall ends hiding more than weaponry designed to kill anyone.

"I'm heading to the central hub," he said. "We'll link up downstairs."

Jogging to pick up the pace he hoped his allies found more to go on.

If they were in his way they soon wouldn't be. Sentries, alloy humanoids separated when twin beams left his glaring. Fiery hot cut them apart piece-by-piece, he moved instantly to snatch and use some of their limbs as bludgeons to bash with. Blasts they could shoot from open palms bounced from his chest and face. A one-man army pushed to scorch anything else in his personal space from it. He threw wiring wrapped in metal ending his last attackers as a smushed ball. Tapping the keys of a console gave him nothing. The feed in bright lettering read as inactive. Each flash of it irritated more and more. He touched the small object in his ear.

"The consoles are shut down. I'm getting nothing."

["It doesn't matter. Green Lantern and I found the cell-block."]

"I'm on the way," he grumbled, gritting his teeth. "Fuck!"

Barely a hint of his strength tore a console dash in two. As he made a mess of the room he rushed beyond doors that could never seal him in.

The massive fist was a figment of his imagination; the green luster it gave off bright it was bigger than a train car as it crashed their way in. Joining Green Lantern from a plume of smoke and sparks was Nightwing in the worst of moods.

"Didn't think I'd miss tearing up Intergang hideouts," Kyle said and he'd be hard pressed to do away with the cheery.

"We're wasting time," Dick said. "She's been gone."

Flying into the debate an irritated Connor touched down into a stride.

"Glad you could join us," Dick said but the team lead only heard know-it-all.

"I took a minute to sightsee," Connor mocked. "Whipped up a fire, roasted some marshmallows."

Dick ignored it to see rows of glassed off cells. He knew the barriers keeping deceased experiments were unbreakable. When he found more than a few missing it brought a few questions to mind. Sparking cables popped from the ceiling, whipping back and forth, not able to frighten the three. They could hear newly-prompted fires at the end of the cell-block ready to burn the rest of the place down if given enough time.

"I tried to tell you. She hasn't been here for a while," Dick said again.

"Then where? We kept her under lock and key for a reason. Now you're telling me she's been gone for years? How the hell does that even happen without us knowing?!" Connor said angrily as he had the most at stake.

He glanced to Kyle's curiosity for an answer he didn't have.

"Who else are we missing?" Kyle asked.

"Who cares," Dick said.

Ultra kneeled to pick up a piece of a broken syringe. He scrutinized every mark on its neck—everything down to the microscopic. Nightwing crouched with him far from perplexed by it.

"Waller," he said quietly.

As Connor turned to see Dick's blank his form of response was a nod to agree. They didn't get to discuss it further as Kyle tore a chip from the only elongated console in that sector. He came back to their watching him with better news.

"We'll mos def learn something from this," he said.

"Give the place one more sweep," Connor ordered.

Kyle's outline flared with his lift off. Dick stood upright to look for anything else. As they were alone, he hit him with it.

"You're not with us," he said.

Connor had to scoff first.

"You really wanna go there?" he said.

"I'm only saying what you already know," Dick pressed anyway. "If Galatea's in play that gives him a powerful weapon. Like he needs another one. He's stacking his chips. Not saving them. Are we?"

Connor smirked assuredly, which helped the truth he tried ignoring, shaking his head like it would shut Dick up.

"Mera's a fun lay. Trust me. But it'll take more than a piece of ass to make me forget," he said keeping his chin up and arms folded. "If Karen makes the incorrect decision—we deal with her too. Simple."

That got Dick to stare him down like he spoke blasphemy. Somehow—it did everything but repulse. The "world's finest" kept intent written in their expressions. Kyle's return was the period placed, and as a team was how they left wanton destruction.

"This is us?" she chirped.

She marveled at the machinery. The toggles she'd never touch out of respect for the one leading her. One of her gloves off she lugged a trunk's weighing more than her, oblivious to its heft.

"Nice right?" Gohan said.

"I mean. It's no penthouse in Bali," Karen winked.

Visitor chambers were indeed furnished, fully-stocked with water or otherwise, granting her width to cook, sleep or think. The latest electronics, some reading material, a couch and love seat, and a floor's black marble reflecting the interaction Gohan stopped by a desk. He studied the part-time A.R.G.U.S. agent neither trusting nor judgemental. Karen could read it—and his wandering gaze.

"My eyes are up here, honey," she smiled.

"I wasn't! I didn't mean!" Gohan exclaimed, beet red in the cheeks. "They're just so —"

"Big?" Karen said and waited to see the nod. "Thank Daddy Lex for that. I'm assuming he designed me in a way that would—distract. Did the same for Connor. Asshole."

Gohan noticed something else. Her cape wasn't so much a cape, as a golden shoulder buckle fastened to it kept it draped behind one arm. The cleaned rope wrapping beneath the other a compliment rubbery gloves and boots produced the same question. Karen fell against mattress soft.

"Thanks for this. The civilian life's a preference but every now and then I just wanna knuckle up," she said kicking one boot up on the other. "Getting pampered in between ain't so bad."

"Where were you Karen? Honestly," Gohan pried leaning against the desk's edge.

Karen's eyes took on red she could finely concentrate from two points. Unstable and misty, one way to describe it, intense heat licking at her eyelids faded out.

"No parts of it. That's what I told brother dearest I wanted. His Justice League can kiss my bodacious, hybrid ass. Criminals in colorful costumes are still criminals."

Karen removed her second glove to check nails recently painted her love of blue. She couldn't have appeared more at home.

"When Lex died I took my check and vanished. Traveled a bit. Stayed off the radar. Put together my own start-up and it's one of the best tech companies on the planet. Sticking it to them wasn't the only reason. Connor said I wouldn't make it without him. Guess who was wrong."

She swung as attractive legs bedside, leaning into their talk.

"Wish I knew you were off the market," she boldly went with. "I might've come out of hiding sooner to shoot my shot."

Serious for the first time since remeeting there was a stillness to her. Gohan searched her for anything contrary: how she breathed, her body language, if there were ticks nervous or natural. The chamber was warm, not the product of her irradiated cells, but it set a mood.

"Donna said you two were besties. Whatever that means," he said.

"We were," she smiled taking a moment to look down in remembrance. "Back then she used to have a thing for Connor. Thank God I talked her out of it."

Karen held her leg out checking for nicks on her boots and grinning up a storm. She glanced to see him doing as she asked: his eyes stayed above her cleavage.

"I'm just glad it's you," he said, the modest in full effect. "We'll get started tomorrow morning. If you need anything DT-777 has it covered."

"DT-777?" her brow raised.

"You'll laugh if I tell you," he sighed.

"No I won't," she said lifting two fingers. "See. They're not crossed."

"— Her name. The bunker AI. DT stands for Donna Troy," he said smacking his head because he knew she would.

"Nooooo," Karen took and ran with it. "Haaaa! That might be the most adorable thing I've heard all month. And you're blushing? Priceless."

"Why do I always fall for it?!" he cursed under his breath.

"Scarred. Tough as nails. But underneath that rugged exterior, he's all mush folks," Karen ribbed, flat on her cot again, tossing a tennis ball up and catching it.

She almost had her fill of his embarrassment.

"What's there to eat in this place?" she laughed.

"Salt water and lint. Goodnight," Gohan grinned deviously, walking to and past the door frame.

"— Not funny!" Karen rang but her delighted host just about left that wing of his base.

*Chapter 10*: Chapter 10

His aircraft's cargo hold pressurized, set to a perpetual room temperature it was a glance right to his cockpit. Gohan's glance ahead was for Karen looking like a brick house with a cape on. He thought Donna the only other as fit, with as rotund a buttocks and bust. Keeping what he thought to himself the datapad in her hand was no commercial tablet yet she swiped her finger along the ripple moving with its tip. As her hand stopped, blueprints stopped.

"Arkham Asylum. If Basil's anywhere, it's here. That doesn't tell us how he got out. And who let him back in?" she said referring to code streaming for the floor. "Has this really been your daily?"

"I'm used to it," he said. "What's this guy capable of?"

Karen swept strands of her hair behind her ear. She casually tossed the tech in her hand aside.

"The usual. Malleable clay-like body. He can morph into anyone or anything and maintain that kind of foolishness for hours," she said swiping her palms along Gohan's chest to straighten wrinkles in his gi.

He looked to her curiously remembering exactly what she was. Flirtatious. She favored peppermints, sucking on one as she grinned for the clean of his obi.

"Put me in, coach," she said letting him off easy, strutting for the exit ramp.

Pressing her fist to a pad's one button triggered it. As the pressure in his ship changed suddenly current whipped her face blowing at her hair and cape before leveling out.

"You do remember this is a mission, right?" Gohan chuckled to say.

"Should I mope about it?" Karen challenged. "If we're clearing Donna's name let's focus on the bright side. What's the plan?"

Gohan didn't move too far to join her. "I'll park the ship. You assess the situation for us. We'll take it from there."

"Is that all?" Karen said treating peril to come like easy-street.

All of her vision took on a hypnotic glimmer: she saw past the clouds—then a decrepit institution—then one end of its roof—then every ridge and line of her infiltration spot down to the most minute detail. The walls peeled away letting her spot any happenstance indoors, and out.

"See you in a bit!" she said over the wind's blustering.

Gohan's nod let her know and Karen took her step. Straightening her body into a dive she dropped like an arrow as her blonde flitted with her red. An old, decaying structure materialized. She turned over, slowing herself into a graceful hover until her boot bottoms softly flattened on gravel.

. . . .

Fingers plunged into a grayed bluff jacket, a smattering of snow in the air, she rarely witnessed his wearing casual clothes but the layers were welcomed. She caught his peek at the scarf tied around her neck. He didn't mind her tresses as they fell like wavy fire from a skullcap.

"This, is Greenland? It's not the most charming place, is it?" she said.

"You said somewhere new. Sorry it doesn't meet your usually high standards," he cracked wise.

She smiled carelessly keeping close but not going so far as to grab, yet.

"A stiff drink later wouldn't hurt," she said. "Something as strong as Xebelian mead. If such a thing exists."

The fleece of her jacket snug, like the jeans wrapping her agreeable hips and she thanked both.

"There is something out there. Playing us left and right," he shared. "Denying it was easy at first."

She abandoned angst and much of her change in attitude had to do with the man by her side.

"Should I be the one to apologize?" she said.

"You don't have to," he said. "I want them to think you're just entertainment. Use you for your powers and keep you at arm's length."

"But Dick Grayson thinks otherwise," she said doting on Connor's firmness.

"He was the first I said anything to," he said, owning it. "Dick always thinks he's one step ahead of everybody. That makes him predictable."

They wandered on the hike hoping to find a vista worth dwelling on. Anything was better than the topic at hand. Mera kicked slush from her shoe. The gale ruffling her hair left her unsure until it passed. They discovered a lake and the thick sheet hiding what may have thrived beneath it. She could. Connor's gaze abandoned nature to see her veering off.

"The crescendo, Mera," he said plainly. "I only trust you for that."

A moment of vulnerable softened his tough.

"Do you?" she doubted, mesmerizing if she stared and coaxing if she spoke. "By the by. Your twin revealing herself now is so on the nose."

"Tell me about it," Connor smiled in a less conceited way.

"The weather can't make up its mind today," he said combing it all.

"So decide for it," she said for kicks.

They needlessly wore gloves but he didn't flinch at her taking his hand. He gripped it, glad at her being then and there. She eyed his lips remembering that they weren't rigid when everything else about him was. The moment was then. She gave him a drawn out peck letting the feel linger, his moist for her saccharine.

She humbled herself and gazed back. "They don't deserve you."

"That's true. They don't," his mouth ends rose to bring about hers doing the same.

Hand in hand, their short journey held its fair share of casual banter. It went as far as they would.

Sluggish to him, their fastest, he watched make-shift shivs swung with reckless abandon to slice his skin open. He glanced to her tying metal coils around a group like an adult scolding adolescents. Her finger flick barely grazed one thinking to sneak her, hurling him from his feet into waiting tile. It took all of five minutes to accomplish what troubled a slew of guards for hours. Through dark helmet visors they caught his smile and her totally laid-back. Galatea needed no help to gather the unconscious.

"Waylon Jones is on the lam too," she said dropping one after the other into a growing pile.

Gohan played support, giving the guards within a rec-room space to clean up. Cobwebs, its interior's dust was harder to get rid of, the stench made worse by urine, or worse, on the floor as some of the beaten involuntarily released. Karen approached and it was to her everyone looked.

"There's something off," Gohan said, distracted. "They've been enhanced."

"Accelerated blood flow. Organs are shuddering louder. I'd say so," Karen said hearing it.

Gohan directed the guards on the next step. It was disheartening to see lifeless bodies. The help caught in the fray.

"I call dibs on Killer Croc," Karen said swiping grit from her gloves.

"Got a thing for him?"

"Oh yeah. Slimy. Smells like a dump truck. He's definitely my kink."

She stopped close, any excuse to touch, she nudged his shoulder in her pass backing her walk off and poking her tongue out. When next she moved it was a dart. Her vanish tossed up wayward trash from the dirtiest floor they'd ever stood on.

She crept along the darkened of a corridor that was everything but safe. Hanging lights flickered. Steam blew from split piping. She knew her current position. Every cell on that floor was tailored to detain some of the most dangerous plaguing Gotham—among others. But it was one cell she stopped before. Sitting on his cot, his jumpsuit orange, he wasn't a burn victim. Hairless and horrifically scarred his "charm" spited his disfigured appearance.

"Deadpool," Galatea grumbled.

"Long time no squeeze. The girls are lookin' ginormous. You gotta job for me?"

Karen hip to her surroundings it was safe to try her luck.

"Why you're in a nut-house and not some tube somebody shot into orbit is beyond me. Know anything about Gohan's stalker?"

Wade sneered exposing gnarled, rotting teeth. He could never intimidate her. But her indifference was easier to pick at.

"Typical comic book tropes. Play the so-called heroes against each other. Make real moves while they dick measure."

"So this is a comic book, huh? Yeah. I knew stopping to chat was a mistake," she said, hands on her hips as she scowled at ceiling rust. "I could come in there and hurt you for as long as it takes. Sure you'll heal. But I'll be there. With a million ways to do it all over again."

Wade snickered taking Karen's irritation in stride and folding hands behind his head. He kicked his leg over the other.

"You always knew how to liven a party. So let's see it. Oh wait. You can't. You like to play A.R.G.U.S. stiff too. How's that been working out for ya'?"

Karen's hand balled. She wanted to open his cell and slam it through his temple. She would have, if not for the clanking from a faraway section of the hospital.

"See you never," she said half-disturbed by his pointing a finger as if it were a gun barrel and "firing" it.

He stepped into a shower space, each head walled off and lined. He ignored a shiver, the brisk chill, and listened to the water draining through circled slits near his boots. Drips were consistent. His acute hearing captured nothing but fluid in motion and the occasional creak. But he picked up on something else. A sensation he registered years prior and he had no choice but to. Whatever was wrong with it was wrong with it.

"I know you're in here. Come out!" he barked.

Easing from the shadows was the woman he expected to see.

"Crap. I'm walking in circles," she said.

He did as she did, relaxing his guard.

"Karen?" he questioned, more himself than her attributes.

Karen walked him down in no rush until she placed herself a few inches from him. Her gloves felt damp against his skin and her gaze said seductive with her smile.

"W-What are you doing?" he said.

"Looking for you," she said glancing for his mouth, his eyes reeling hers in. "Level with me. Does Donna know what we got up to when we first met?"

Her bosom nearly dwarfing his, he leaned from it.

"Uhh. Okay. What does that have to —"

"Shhh. You think too much."

Karen's mouth snuffed his reply. Gohan tasted her peppermint as she egged him on. He wouldn't see her hand behind her back nor its shaping into a bladed protrusion of flexible matte. He felt her lips curving.

"Nice try!" he said pushing his friend like she wasn't one.

Karen reacted with vicious swings, missing. Her hand plunged through one end of the shower area as Gohan juked the final attempt. He slowly stood to see her morph into a monstrosity. It bubbled to an imposing height, its texture thick and oozing into and over itself. Its voice took on a garbled baritone.

"Clever-clever," it said. "What tipped you off?"

"You can imitate. Down to a T even. But the real you is always in there," Gohan said clenching his jaw.

He kept his arms to his sides. Basil's body hardened and colored itself to mimic everything he was.

"Make this easy on yourself, kid," he said. "Or don't. I could care less."

Gohan shook his head in disgust.

"It's the same song and dance with you people," he said.

"If you're gonna blame anyone, it's wonder whore. Isn't she partly the reason you're stuck here?"

"— That's not very nice," Gohan said, on the verge.

"Christ you're such a fuckin' boysco —," Basil said before a fist knocked the dribble from his mouth.

Slammed through a stairwell door he shoved twin hammer-heads ahead of him. Gohan caught both as quick unaware of their secret.

"Whoa!" he said yanked from his feet into a spin.

Thrown through cement his back folded a railing. Basil lunged as Gohan took him by the molds and lobbed him through an adjoined wall. He flew off, opening a hole in the ceiling and aware of the muck snagging his boot.

"Goin' somewhere punk?!" Basil snarled as he hung on for dear life.

Gohan flew and would fly across the entirety of Gotham if he had to. He found a river below, forgetting how quickly Clayface could morph. More than one tendril wrapped his neck. He nosedived, flaring like a comet as Basil's flesh swayed from the output.

"Daaa!" he cried snatching the criminal from his back and blasting him with a palm.

He watched him rupture a roof, and two stories of a building on its last leg. Keeping himself afloat he swiped at his neck like bits of the creature were still "tonguing" him. Dropping between hole after hole his opponent was gone. Overcast didn't help. He had to rely on instinct as his feet touched flat.

"Let's go!" he hollered ready and able.

"— sOoO HuNgRrYyYyY —"

One spiked limb fired but he ducked. Another fired but he leaned. They soon came as a maelstrom not able to drill in. Gohan moved his head and body from shot after shot until all around was covered in strands too thick to call normal.

"Hold still!" Basil snapped.

Gohan ignored the comment and watched his step. He turned catching the thing that was Clayface. Setting his knuckles against his chest he hardly jerked. Basil tore through the lumpy threads in his way to cave in a wall.

"You're DEAD!" he yelled as pieces of his body returned to completeness.

Enhanced senses weren't as burdened as his vision. He still couldn't avoid the blast hitting him square in the face.

"RRHNHAHHNNNHNN!" he screamed but to Gohan it was unintelligible.

Some of the foundation fell around his steps. The shaking evened out. Gohan stopped ahead of drifting debris and the criminal and a swath at his back. Basil quivered as he turned to see everything behind him blown away.

"It'd be too easy to kill you," he said.

"You think this is over? He'll win! He always wins!" Basil spat. "C'mon. Do it! DO IT!"

Gohan held out the front of his hand at Basil's crazed suggestion. A thought and it summoned the means in his palm. They listened for it. To Basil's surprise it swirled out as quickly as it grew.

"You're going back to Arkham. If I ever see you again I will do it," Gohan said with a coldness that wasn't like him.

He stepped back but his threat never wavered. Basil grit his crooked teeth and fumed. His enemy made it a point to tower over him.

. . . .

Who they came for a bad memory two exchanged words with the irate. Her patience lessened as the portly, middle-aged warden raved and ranted.

"Who will fund the renovation of several wings of the hospital, Ms. Starr? Your friend nearly destroyed the building with no regard for the staff or the patients!"

"No. He took the worst of it elsewhere. You're welcome!"

Sharp scoffed wagging his head as several of the guards stood to his back. Wanting to speak in favor of the blamed the thought of losing their jobs kept their mouths closed.

"This is outrageous! Nightwing wouldn't have nearly leveled the complex."

Karen could glare holes through anything, figuratively and literally, and Warden Sharp could feel the watch she always had to rein in. He changed his tune as she had a way of making her point sans saying it.

"— The patients, Ms. Starr," he uttered carefully. "Their safety."

"Which is why I'll personally provide the contractors to make the needed repairs," she said done with little men and little problems.

"It's okay, Karen," Gohan chimed in patiently. "He's right. I'm sorry, Mr. Sharp."

He left the cafeteria with something like dismay.

"Now look what you did," Karen griped ready to knock the warden's forced smile from his weathered face.

Arkham's landscape was a depressing normalcy. Dreary, lacking color and animation, the environment only made him less eager to celebrate. The arrival of Gotham's most infamous broke his contemplation. Nightwing paused at Gohan's melancholy.

"I assume you have a reason for being here?" he asked dryly.

"Yeah. Clearing Donna's name," Gohan fired back.

Dick might as well have been one of the nightmarish statues posted on a few of the hospital's ledges. His wet fringes a human characteristic, he didn't smile, and his tone couldn't have been more uncaring.

"You really are as naive as we thought," he dared with no hesitation. "We've been dealing with cases of the sort longer than you've been a thing. Know your place."

"I do," Gohan said. "Can you say the same?"

No intimidation techniques could work. Dick couldn't find the opening. Somewhere to set the knife and dig in. He walked by like he wasn't there, but stopped.

"Donna's a professional. But she has feelings for you. We both don't want anything to happen that shouldn't. Next time, think before you act."

Dick had his way of not meaning to sound harsh. Sort of. His near silent entrance into Arkham left an impact on Gohan as well. He didn't wait around. He carried himself bringing his regret above anything that troubled him.

. . . .

She recognized the medical bay. It was technically his. Waiting on his arrival, fully-geared in her pants-jacket, tiara-breastplate combo, Donna wanted him to see the pep. Gohan hurried through the door to embrace her like he'd never see her again. As he and Donna rocked in place, Karen not one to ruin a moment, she stood off to the side crossing her arms and smiling wide for her teenage friend's growth. They exchanged a cheerful nod he missed out on.

"Waller left you something," Donna said pulling a slip from her belt.

He took it in hand to first read a couple of zeroes.

"More spending money?" Gohan said as Karen found a place opposite Donna.

"The other perk of gainful employment. Typically, when you have a job you're compensated for whatever it is you do," she said sarcastic as all get-out. "Educate him, D."

Karen chipper on the way out, not thinking to be a third wheel, when alone, Donna closed in on him. She pulled him on the fold of her arms behind his neck.

"No strings?" he asked because he wanted to be certain.

"Why would there be?" she sighed with relief, palming his chest. "Waller did offer me a job. I declined."

"I don't blame you," he said.

A draft sifted through electronics and depowered utensils. Gohan's kiss to follow was a serene statement to ruin Donna's worry, not that she had any left. It certainly was brazen because she didn't expect it. She opened the flicker of her eyes letting negative thoughts wash away. Positive returned. Positive worked.

"Why'd you stop?" she asked.

"It's nothing," he said thinking to grin for her. "Let's go home."

Whether they should call it a night there, within a space for healing, or somewhere in the bunker was all but forgotten. Gohan took her hand, pulled his softest, and Donna would follow him to the ends of the earth.

. . . .

Not the sectional, a recent purchase, but a marigold-pine rug over mopped hardwood. Remote, and just outside, the pangs of nature, a rustic cabin the getaway both desired more than anything. Being in the middle of nowhere held its merit. Stoking a flame to keep its crackle Gohan took a seat next to an anxious Donna. For a minute or two nothing was said. He fingered her jawline tilting it up. If he was the appraiser then she was the pride and joy of his private collection.

"Just saying it might help," he said.

"You sure? It doesn't always," she answered shocking herself with total honesty.

"No one said it always has to."

"Thanks mister wisdom. You could be right."

It was crazy how sisters she knew like the back of her hand couldn't get an honest reaction out of her, while this man who drove her nuts did it with so little effort. She didn't want to ponder that realization for too long, so she did what came naturally. She avoided it. With steady fingers she started to unbutton the flannel he lent her, which she still wore with her bracers, intending to give it back to him so he didn't have to face the evening shirtless, even if the female population worldwide would go mental over his approachable abs. Before she reached the second button he stopped her with a hand on her wrist.

"What are you doing?" he said.

"Giving you back your shirt," she said.

Gohan shook his head vigorously. "Keep it."

Donna pointed at the burgundy robe resting on an oak coffee table. "I've got my own. I'll be fine."

"Yeah. But if we swap clothes I'll see the set again. Who wants to get excited by that?" he said.

One corner of her mouth rose.

"You'd rather not be. But you are," she said.

"Maybe."

"And if I do this?"

Donna stood, leaning down, shedding her socks by the fireplace then straightening again. She slowly unbuttoned his shirt letting it fall open to reveal lavender, push-up plunge.

"Just wondering—if my body was the last thing you saw, ever, would it be worth it?" she said.

Gohan watched her silently challenging anyone to blame him, his eyes drifting from her assurance to her physical. In the fire's luminescence, she took on a golden glow and her locks were like a burnished halo around her narrow face as they hung. She smiled wantonly, knowing the effect of her evening wear. It was paper thin. Almost transparent. He all but shot to his feet.

"Donna," he began, ambling toward her, his gaze feasting.

"Gohan," she tested, turning her back to him, shuffling toward a wall of notched logs.

"You're pretty much naked."

"What's it to you?"

"It's the opposite of having clothes on," he chuckled fighting a losing battle.

"— I'd defend without clothes," she believed. "But that would detract from my message."

"That's Wonder Woman talking."

"Were you questioning her or Donna Troy?"

"It's a toss-up," he grinned sheepishly. "And here we are, all alone —"

"Without you putting it bluntly yet," she poked holes in his thinking. "Say what you mean."

"I would if I was suicidal," he traded tit for tat.

"Hardee har. For Athena's sake shut up. Take them off," she bossed.

Gohan tugged at his fly to unzip, doing away with briefs when he could. Donna, palms flat on the wall's dry, bent over enough for her underwear to ride up the cleft.

"And stare at what you can't have."

"Tsk. Really?"

When close enough he gripped her waist, whispering sweet nothings, she made herself feel his solid enthusiasm probe between her thighs. Competition again. Gohan tore away at brand new lingerie. His throbbing pressed into the soft of her roused flesh. Donna couldn't reply because the head of it breached her in one hard thrust. He didn't ease into her or give her time to adjust. He offered all of it, holding her squirm and forcing himself inside. As it was her will, he controlled and conquered, a shock of tingles the result. She whimpered, maintaining the act, thrusting back and tossing her head at the feel of him sliding in to the hilt. It was almost too much. He held himself steady and his left hand slid up. He shoved the bra above a heavy mound, and cupped her as he pulled out and stroked back in. He thumbed an erect center then gave it a twist.

"— I knew you were a weakling," she bravely mumbled.

He twisted again, and a pleasurable pang shimmered throughout her. He anchored his hands back on her hips as he plunged in and out in rough, congruent strokes. Donna let her head fall back once more giving over to euphoria. When he filled her, she always had a moment when she wasn't sure she could handle it, but she ached to try. And once she succeeded in accommodating him, she groaned, the unnatural strength of her fingernails digging, shaving away lines from the surface she scratched. Gohan caressed every bit of her blessed skin that he could reach, her soft, ripe swells, her toned belly, the curvature of her hips, before he found her femininity again and strummed it, taking her all the while.

Donna pressed her back against him to dampen loud smacks. If she hadn't, the vigor would have sent her headfirst through the support. He wouldn't relent and she wouldn't let him, keeping her up and wrapping her neck to squeeze it as hard as he could. He picked up the pace and she moved in accordance. The push and pull of his prodding formed a rhythm she sank into. Over and over he sank deep before he dragged back out, sensitizing her nerve endings and drawing her to the edge. Gohan toyed with her dripping moist in earnest now. She could make all of the noise she wanted. Donna freed everything she bottled up fisting the wall and hearing it snap open. At the mercy of a beau's strong-arming, he shoved her cheek against it and kept her there, oblivious to her closing her eyes tightly and chewing her lip.

. . . .

Pushing her body to its limit the pop in her ears was her surpassing the speed of thought. But the closer she got, the higher she flew, the further away they moved. She reached, lasso gripped tight enough to rub the flesh from the bone and wanting to attack a twisted enemy in the hopes of aiding her beloved. She'd have to settle with thinking of it. He engaged him with expert blocks and timed evades. Each strike shifted their enemy's bulk. The atmosphere split like cuts opening. Like the glass of a mirror struck hard enough to shatter it to bits—she woke abruptly to a less than grand cabin. A cotton blanket and one of his v-necks for comfort. She swept back the dark shine that was her mane, exhaling slowly. Should she even bother sharing the worth of a vision was something she mulled on. A wall clock's tick the only thing heard, a heating unit's current the only thing felt, she turned to his watching her all the while.

"Hey you," he said.

She smiled to slip a hand across what she pawed at, her fingers stopped where they wanted. Not one blemish. He couldn't find a single flaw in or on her expression. The spearmint-like pleasant of sweet alyssum as she spoke he wondered if that was another gift.

"Spill it," he knew to say.

Across the room, her lasso moved nowhere for the duration. He looked from what it meant. He carefully trapped her jaw before she decided to kiss his fondling.

"So many people believe I can do it all. That's crazy right? It's always "Wonder Woman is OP" or "Wonder Woman's just the female Superman." My bad. Ultra. Hera forbid I come up short. It sounds nuts, but —"

"It sounds like it should. You gotta remember your own truth. What your mom and sisters taught you. Piccolo-san—my dad—they used to tell me I'd stumble and I did. Fell harder than most and more often than I care to admit. You don't fixate on the odds even if they're beating you down to the point you don't want to get back up. You keep trucking. It's why I respect you, Donna. It's why I always have," Gohan provided because Donna wanted the lesson.

She slid the bare of her thigh over his knees, propping her head on his chest. An inactive ceiling fan caught his eye, and her scalp, the roam of his digits. Instinct shut hers again. She wished they could stay as they were forever. When opened, her glance stopped on his profile.

"What else?" she said sleepily.

"You'd do the same for me," he said.

"How do you know?"

The ball was in his court. He did nothing with it. He was exhausted and a little too satisfied with being lazy. She studied his pointed chin for the longest time. Her head then buried into solace again. When they could steal a moment they dozed off and let the to-be-determined play out whenever it would. Peace was inside of a bedroom, inside of a basic escape, and it wasn't taken for granted.

*Chapter 11*: Chapter 11

ARC I - NO JUSTICE

Two-and-a-half months too long...

"There was no Arkham Asylum. No Stryker's Island. It was destroy your enemies or they destroy you. I still can't wrap my head around how it works here. Don't get me wrong. It's better. At least giving some of them a chance."

"You wish you had that choice. The Saiyans. Freeza. The Androids."

She mentioned in prior sessions that decorating a therapy office meant good lighting. Two bulbs were soft and built into the ceiling above his having nothing to say. Seats right next to wide, sweeping views of Downtown Gotham. Colors were coordinated, yet subdued, wine reds for the furniture and creams for the wall paints. She suggested he rest flat on a futon. "Focus on the comfort," she'd say. But she was the best draw sitting across from him, empathetic.

"Yeah," he said. "There wasn't an option for otherwise. With any of them. We could always leave it to dad. He'd take care of it. He always did. And then he was gone."

"You blame 'em for ruining your chance at normal," she said and he knew few people with as thick an accent.

Gohan could tell behind rimless rectangles her pretty, ice blues weren't contacts. All black everything for her pencil skirt, turtleneck, stockings and wedge pumps. He could tell in her college years, as she put it, she was a terrific gymnast, her petite an appealing slender-buxom. His t-shirt felt tighter if ever she stared too openly.

"I do. I did," he twiddled his thumbs.

He had no idea what she jotted, watching glossy strands fall to her glasses, which she rarely tied into a bun with the rest.

"Dr. Quinzel," he said.

"Yeah?" she glanced from the work.

"What do you do to relax?" he asked genuinely.

Her telling grin accomplished one of two things: it either mocked or proved.

"Rob banks."

"Huh?"

"I rob banks," she said. "In my head. Imagine something dangerous. Something so unlike my day-to-day. Live another life for however long it takes to unclench."

"Hmm," he said, intrigued. "So just imagine you're someone else. Like exciting in a different way. That's neat."

She let her eyes slip to arms she knew could fold steel. Crinkled jeans a coat for legs that could kick a soccer ball into orbit. He left his sneakers off, a session quirk, but she mostly thought his scar and cow licks defined him.

"Talk about your relationships," she said.

"With who?" he said.

"Women."

"— How are you so good at that?" he asked as it was on the brain. "Donna's everything I could ask for. Strong. Beautiful. Smart."

"Perfect," she cut in, back to her writing.

"That's the thing. She's really insecure about that word. I think it's because everyone expects her to be."

"She just wants people to lay off it."

"Right."

"And you can't understand why some of the others think you're attractive."

"— Selina and I tried something a while back. It fell apart. She still likes to mess with my head whenever she gets the chance. I can't read her. Karen flirts. Like all the time. Mary's a sweetheart. Don't see her too much. I'm just glad she's pursuing what makes her happy."

"Anyone else?"

Gohan glanced to her paying close attention. Her smile was an infectious he had to mimic.

"There's you, doctor. Waller. These sessions. Ironically, you know more about me than anyone else."

"Physician-patient privilege. What's said in here stays in here."

"Thanks for that."

Gohan swung his legs ahead of him leaning forward to put his shoes back on. Not in any hurry Dr. Quinzel didn't budge an inch.

"What do you think?" he asked.

As she finished writing one click of her pen and tossing it wasn't the final word.

"A laughably mild case of GAD."

"GAD?"

"Generalized anxiety disorder," she said. "Nothin' crazy. We'll discuss a long term fix next week. No needles. No pills."

"Awesome," he said gently squeezing a smaller hand smooth as silk, yet rougher than the average woman's.

"Scram. We went over your time again," she said to help him laugh.

"I'm going," he said headed for the door.

He followed a Persian rug, grinning, ignorant of her biting her thumb as she ogled as much as she wanted.

. . . .

Any wildlife not hiding from the raindrops heard the thruster booms. Sturdy extensions moved to help state of the art equipment stand in place. Sloping from its exit their feet sank an inch into mud as they took in the sight of massive alloy, bent, worse off, but unopened.

Soaked to the bone Gohan stopped. "Loud or no?"

"No," Wonder Woman stepped up. "J'onn?"

"There must be a way to unlock the doors. One of you be ready to pull."

Martian Manhunter playing ghoulish specter he disregarded solid matter to sift through it with no resistance.

"What's on your mind?" Gohan asked.

"There's probably an inactive payload in there that could blow us sky high if we aren't careful. Who knows how sensitive it is to force," Donna said.

The rusting of the doors at its most grievous he traced it to its highest ends.

"Good point," he said.

His grin for hers the voice in his head was a reminder.

(Pull the door open.)

He took a tight hold of the only handle. It was heavier than it looked. Slowly enough, he remembered her warning. Its slide across wet concrete could wake the dead. Enough space to enter, he let go, J'onn a presence making himself known by a lever to the side of their way in. Rows of objects with the power to obliterate cities were glinting silhouettes hoisted above a dirtier floor. Mildew for every corner, dank, dark, J'onn lifting another lever sparked the needed light. As the bulbs weren't used in decades, several burst. The rest were weak.

"What's all this?" Gohan gushed.

"An old missile silo," J'onn answered. "Used at one point by this country's military to stockpile destructive warheads."

The former worked the room, gradually, not liking the gist. He remembered the Red Ribbon Army only too well. Their ongoing feud with his father. A gaping hole in the floor nearly claimed him as he caught his balance.

"Guys! Over here!" he called out.

J'onn and Donna tried to see what they couldn't. It was too dark. It fell to Wonder Woman's lasso.

"I'm going down," Gohan said.

"Then I'm going with," Donna said quicker. "Be careful, J'onn."

"Of course," J'onn nodded.

Gohan pulled Donna close, her wrapping arms around his stomach as he squeezed her waist. They brought themselves over the hole at a pace that was smart, dropping as slowly. Endless rock the victim of claw marks their feet finally met something to stand on. The hiss not as unsettling as the cold they found a container big enough to keep twenty men. Its pried open door almost buried under their feet nothing feeble could ever hope to tear it free.

"Great Hera," Donna said for the sight. She fingered burnt metal and the etchings of an unknown text.

"Looks like words," Gohan said.

"Spelling what is the question," Donna replied tapping her ear. "Martian Manhunter. Mark the site for a S.T.A.R. team. We found a container hidden under the silo. It'll need a thorough inspection."

["Affirmative. What have you discovered?"]

"Something was kept inside of it. Left to die is my guess. It punched or clawed its way out. These doors look to be made with an odd metal and they're crazy thick. There's something on the ground that looks like green skin. You see any damage to the silo ceiling? On its opposite end?"

["Negative. I've searched the entire building and have yet to unearth anything noteworthy."]

Donna looked to the only light source in the room. Then her companion. Pitch black tried to eat away at her lariat, but it kept.

"Copy that. We're coming up," she said.

"The weird gets weirder," he said.

"It stinks down here. Let's go."

Stepping from the container their rise was rushed to escape the smell of decomposing flesh. Meeting J'onn they had to wait before leaving. And they were everything but convinced.

She didn't need the distraction of his visit to her day job. A good-looking distraction in his cape and crest, a familial one, he was still a distraction. Her business casual was her preferring the civilian life. Uncomfortable, the air between them, but they overlooked it.

"Lead for everything. Nice," Ultra said attentive to everything in her office. "I'll give you this. Whatever else you used had me stumped."

Because Karen toyed with her smartphone her playing it cool was legit. She acted like she didn't care.

"Learned from the best. Dad didn't teach you all of what he knew," she said. "And he made us just smart enough to improvise."

Connor was as good at faking unbothered. But it had yet to work on the cocky entrepreneur he spoke to.

"I'm trying. I really am," he said for the sake of patience. "When I said you wouldn't make it without me, I knew you would. What did you want, Karen? A snippet from a Saturday afternoon special? I had to be tough on you. Because we had to survive."

"And I told you before your League crap doesn't cut it," she said.

"In so many words," Connor smirked. "We're making changes to the formula. Trying new. It'll take time. But we'll get there. Just like you and I. I can let bygones be bygones. You're family."

Fetching as her stare was, he thought it plenty cold, as she admittedly doubted him.

"No is still no," she said. "That just leaves you standing there wearing that suit and thinking sweet words will win me over. Sorry to disappoint, Ultra."

Connor walked a few feet from her, chin in hand. Facing her, his base bounced from the cleanest walls.

"You understand the climate," he said. "New metas are discovered every hour of every day. Some will need our guidance. Hiding behind this facade won't change that."

"You're right. We should build a daycare," she joked. "I know one thing. They won't be subscribing to the Grayson-Luthor school of disregard. I'll make sure of it."

He didn't lose his temper. She didn't leave her desk.

"Let's chalk this up to you coming to my business. Because I okayed it. And me telling you what would've sufficed over a Skype call. You're right about one thing. We can't choose our family. Which is why I'm still sitting here and you haven't been asked to leave."

"— You haven't changed one iota, sis," Connor chuckled. "Do yourself a favor. Stay retired. Believe it or not I don't want you caught in the crossfire."

Walking for the way out seemed never-ending as her workspace was too big. Karen let him go, aware of her thoughts but not his. And she couldn't stop him. Not alone. She also didn't know if stopping his design was a true want.

. . . .

"Move your caboose, girlie. The fun's just gettin' started!" she squealed.

Chalk-white skin was an accident. Two-toned pigtails weren't. Carrying something larger than her she climbed a fire escape with it strapped to her back like it weighed next to nothing. They had their snipers on neighboring rooftops but the bank they boxed in was her target. She reached hers finding two with their backs turned. All grins as she crouched a suppressor rolled in her grip plugging her favorite handgun. Aiming it and squeezing the trigger burst the first's head open. Her legs were already around the second's neck before a count to five. Another strolled into her line of sight, too slow for her when he turned into her too quick roundhouse. The booty shorts and fishnets allowed freedom of movement, among other things, she sucked the strawberry sweet from her lollipop, sliding it between glittery lip gloss.

"Is a hat trick for one player scorin' four goals? You chumps watch hockey? Me neither," she giggled for three she enjoyed hurting.

Kicking the dead one in the face as she walked by she relaxed herself prone. Her case flicked opened she grabbed and took her time to unfold her rifle's heft. Thankful her harlequin corset and not her skin soaked up the puddle she was flat in, it always required a steady gaze. Pleased looking through the scope, or any scope, she fired a sticky residue tagging the location. She thought of it as she changed her magazine causing a change of the ammunition.

"This'll get baby boy's attention."

She took a calmed hold of her firearm. The trigger sensitivity resisted little. During her pull of it a muffled spurt and a hollow-point bounced from one unprotected skull, zipping for and through another, then a third, bouncing from a box vent and embedding in the last's.

"Ha! Got 'eeemmm!" she grinned from ear to ear. "Smart bullets for the win!"

She smooched wherever her weapon wasn't hot, sprightly, standing to laced combat boots and bending over to pack it away. It served its purpose—but the plastic explosive lining her varsity jacket had yet to.

. . . .

"Think he'll be happy about it?"

["Probably not. It doesn't matter. You're as much a Gotham resident as he is."]

"I guess the outskirts of Crest Hill does count," Gohan shrugged. "Kind of thought you'd join me."

["J'onn and I need to look into this Saratov thing. It's now a League priority. According to Ultra. Karen tells me his visit to Starr Enterprises didn't play out like he'd hoped."]

"He should've guessed it wouldn't," he said.

As he thought, he turned, his trajectory switching at the drop of a hat.

["Gohan. About what you asked —"]

"It can wait. This should be a piece of cake."

He flew against the current banking left and was ready for the dive. His boots stopped far above the street. Louder were the fire trucks and GCPD homicide units running rampant.

"I'm here."

His discovery wasn't a piece of cake: a bank engulfed in flames, bodies laid in sporadic positions on the rooftop he chose, the victims eyes were crossed out and lips painted with their own blood.

"You seeing this?" he asked sickened by more than the stench.

["Satellite imaging hasn't—there we go. Whoa. Is that your name carved into their faces?"]

"And they lined up the bodies with the money bags," he said. "I'll look around."

He couldn't deny his not feeling remorse for their dead. He perused a well-dressed corpse, crouched by what was left of him.

"They left a tarot card. Harley hearts Gohan written on the back," he read.

["Creepy. You can't feel anything?"]

"— No. It's weird. Whoever Harley is she's definitely not a synthetic, so," he stood to say. "Maybe we should thank her."

["You don't mean that."]

Gohan set a gaze toward darker skies. His not saying anything after rubbed the wrong way. He took a few steps from the crime scene he sullied.

"And what if I do, Donna?" he spoke up. "These men are criminals. Criminals likely using that bank as a front and hurting people in the process. I have the power. Why shouldn't I use it? I mean really use it. You were right about always having to hold back."

["This is why I wanted you to go straight home."]

Gohan took his minute to come around.

"Forget I mentioned it," he mumbled. "Feels like we haven't hung out in days."

["Meaning?"]

"Meaning we haven't hung out in days."

["We live together. It doesn't get more hang out than that."]

"Teh. Alright. You got me."

Rising was easy, and a push even easier.

"I'll take your advice. Happy?"

["Thrilled. Make sure you wait up for me."]

She found it again. Contentment. She felt as a spring breeze. Only winter wasn't over yet. Nonetheless, nothing could impede what little joy a scarred heart allowed. She coveted her oversized revolver placing it next to her mattress with several customized bullets. Some Jolly Ranchers and a wiped-down, butcher knife she stabbed into the edge. Dimmer lighting in her studio apartment so she barely saw her see-through nightgown and bunny slippers. She switched it off giving a full moon a chance, windows from the floor to the ceiling a filter. She skipped her way for one of two desks—the preferred one littered with Polaroids, scented candles and too much memorabilia. Reaching, she dared, taking one of the pictures and planting her lips to it. She smiled sweetly, mumbling about Barnes and Noble rebates, until her cell ringing butt in. She brought "him" with her jogging toward the jingle and the caller ID.

"— Glad you called, red."

["Harley. I swear. If this is one of your attempts to coax me into what you call phone-hanky-panky again —"]

"It's not, it's not! Segue. Whaddya wearing?"

["I'm hanging up now."]

"Wait! Was only joshin'. What's the word?"

["A.R.G.U.S. isn't as foul proof as Waller thinks. She plans to cut off your sessions with him. Pardon the lack of faith. You really feel that strongly for this alleged patient of yours? Never thought I'd see the day you treasured something other than butterscotch cookies."]

"Baby boy has that effect on people."

["He wakes them up?"]

"He kills 'em. But only if they're the worst of the worst. Unlike that Nightwing prick. Anyway. Long as I've been sleeping—at some point—right is right."

["I'd suggest playing along with Waller. Harley Quinn has a hefty price on her head. One several interested parties are looking to cash in on. Dr. Quinzel, on the other hand. She can make moves."]

"Got ya'. I'll be careful. Nighty night, Pammie. Thanks for having my back."

The screen in her hand fading to black, she paused, not dwelling on what a girlfriend recommended. People wanting her dead was nothing novel. She climbed into her bed pulling polka dot sheets to her bosom, clutching a doll she knitted from scratch to settle in. Lying on her side her night would've ended better if he was next to her. No rest for wicked. Less rest for the unstable.

. . . .

He could barely complete the knot, his focus on his roommate taking up half his couch, legs folded so her bare feet were tucked. The Iliad her obsession of choice she read it as such. A closet door's mirror could never compete.

"Eyes on the prep," she said lost in her reading.

"I can tie a windsor in my sleep now."

He glanced to his appearance, clean and pressed, no wrinkles on the slacks and collar to straighten.

"You still think a nine-to-five is a waste of time," he said.

"Never said that," she shook her head. "In fact, a job in journalism is fitting. You always struck me as the type. As much intelligence as common sense and no way to express it."

"Why is it everyone's so obsessed with what other people think?"

"Turn on the television. We're conditioned to be. And it doesn't matter where on Earth you come from."

Donna flipped a page swiping at her sweatshirt. She glanced to her skinny jeans like something clung to her knee.

"Not wanting to live off of anyone's handouts is a good thing," she said. "Better you than me. After the night you had—I'd have turned in early."

"Still haven't heard about what you and J'onn got up to," he said.

"Didn't want to bore you with it. Thank Hera when you will. Son Gohan doesn't have to suffer Justice League tedium. I envy you."

"Don't."

Gohan donned a belted trenchcoat to complete the look. By the time he turned Donna joined him. She stepped closer to try. Pushing at the nose of his glasses he allowed her brazen.

"All set?" was him full on, happy-go-lucky.

She'd attempt fearless instead. Reaching for his pants she pulled them higher around his waist. His cheap aftershave didn't detract from it. He expected more than what she started but she took a step back running her gaze from his dress shoes to his slicked back hair. Foundation he borrowed and she rarely used to lighten the scar. She stepped back in, pursing her lips for the finishing touch he thought he wouldn't get, smiling with him before her mouth left his.

"You are now, Gavin Sung," she said.

Slow to turn her back and walk in a way that said, "yeah, stand there and watch," he had no choice but to. Walking to his front door he stopped as soon as his hand snagged the knob.

"You'll turn everything off if you leave?" he asked.

"If I leave," she said.

. . . .

Across the pond Metropolis truly was Gotham's cleaner, less miserable sister. He thought to compare and contrast on his way from it, and "it" was always a madhouse, every morning, afternoon and evening. There were those in the editing room still scrambling with habits. They ignored him. Usually did. He carried a tape-sealed envelope like it was the Holy Grail. His focus on the editor-in-chief's name plastered across foggy glass someone a year or two younger stopped him in his tracks; mocha-skinned, skinny and curly-haired, his camera hanging by a strap and consideration of others were a preference. Better than the bullheaded alternative that was their boss.

"That what you called about?" he said, his deep voice not meshing with his smaller build.

"It is. I owe you one, James," Gavin smiled.

Giving what he brought he watched James pull at freshly printed pages. Thumbing through a few his co-worker was one to admire artistry.

"Don't sweat George. If he's on your case, he likes you. "

"I'll take your word for it. What's new?" he asked sick to death of reporter jargon.

James joined him in listening to some anyway from one of a few blaring sources.

"Son Gohan. Run-of-the-mill stuff. Turns out he's got a meta stalker. A hot one. But she's crazy. Best kind of women really."

"You'd want the attention?"

"All jokes aside. Hell no." James looked again to Gavin's handiwork. "Your editing is top notch. No grammatical errors. Near perfect syntax. How do you do it?"

"I get lost in the writing and the result is my checking it over and over. Multiply that brand of obsessive compulsive by ten-thousand, and, there you have it. My mom really got on my case about it. She got on my case about studying period."

"You too? Thought I was one of a kind. My mom calls it Robinson charm. Must've gotten it from her. Dad was charm free," James shared reaching for a smaller envelope peeking from his right pocket. "Here it is. Anytime you need me to hang onto it for you, let me know."

Gavin bumped a fist to the one James reached.

"Tell me straight up. Is it true? You've really met Wonder Woman? Like the Wonder Woman. Not just a cosplayer."

"Heh, guilty as charged," Gavin beamed.

"No way! Bro. You ever score a sit down just make sure I'm there. Literally find me, wherever I am, come hell or high water."

"Noted."

James left him entertained but with nothing more to say. His phone's battery was almost dead because he forgot to charge it. Several menials slipped his mind. Dropping it into his pants he was slow to depart, exhausted and, a loved one was right. He should've turned in earlier than his usual.

*Chapter 12*: Chapter 12

Most weekends were suited for it. Half of a block from the Iceberg Lounge an indoor mall was less notorious. Colorfully bagged items held varying price ranges but the ones Donna chose for her boyfriend were frugal. Men walked by, some with women clinging to their arms, others in groups, more than a few eyes slipped to two of the metahuman community failing at incognito. Donna glanced for a decorative sign. She traced the lining of silky lingerie, full of wonder. Curiosity drew the pair inside to browse.

"Come on, D," one of her best friends said. "You can't tell me this little number isn't doing it."

Karen held up a low-back satin slip, wiggling hips covered by denims she had the gams for. She chuckled for Donna's shaking her head.

"There's a word for you," she grinned.

"Idiosyncratic?" Karen said.

She was the only buyer of anything. Donna found herself remembering her sense of humor and following her from the store to a nearby food court. Neither for eating, something hot to drink was the preference, as was a seat among the rabble.

"It's not so ass-backwards," Karen chimed pulling aviator sunglasses from her face.

"What?" Donna played dumb.

"Your problem," Karen replied.

"It isn't. I spent the first sixteen years of my life with nothing but women. What your people call women, anyway. And since I called all of them sister, knowing each one by name and creed, I'm sure you can understand that our courtship rituals were everything but fixed."

Donna reversed the spotlight. "It was never a one and done."

Karen sipped her latte not needing to be so careful. "Being beautiful has it's ups and downs."

"I'll bet," Donna smirked. "What are they, oh wise one?"

"We can have any Joe-smoe. Yeah? I don't have to tell you most of 'em aren't cut out for it. So imagine the surprise when there's one at all. A rarity in our line of work."

"Gods that couldn't be more obvious," Donna nodded. She glanced to passersby.

Karen's expression flippant she "glanced" from the table between them.

"When we started hanging out I kind of hated you. A lot. You represented everything I lacked. No offense," she said.

"None taken," Donna chuckled. "I'm guessing that wore off."

"There were guys to chase and parties to grace. Super puberty—which sounds wrong no matter how you put it," Karen winked.

They both wrestled with memories, and surprisingly, no feelings of guilt before Donna's phone pestered her. She let the call go unanswered. Forgetting who they were, where they were was better for the topic.

"Then all that's left is to hear what he thinks," Donna sighed.

"He should be so lucky. Handsome bastard. No offense," Karen repeated, raising her cup. "To new and different?"

"To new and different," Donna said raising hers.

There was no fighting a playful smile for an idea. There was no hating it either.

Slipping away when he got the chance he had to choose. An excuse of why he had to leave work early in the first place hit and he watched a selection. The store was emptied save for his not deciding right away, a perky cashier in the mix. His easygoing personality held her attention over the tossed together of his clothes. Six diamonds attached to bands, clean and clear cut, and he had to pick one. He thought it daunting.

"How much is that one?" he asked and made sure to point at his choice.

"Ten thousand dollars."

"Ten thousand?! These are the cheapest?!" he almost shouted, the clerk's pep not bothered.

"Yes sir. We provide only the finest quality at The Velvet Box."

He pulled the phone he nearly fumbled from his slacks to dial a saved contact. His smile cute to her and genuine for him, a reply for the clerk's, the one he called had yet to pick up.

["What's going on, man?"]

"Wally. I had a quick question," he said and his gaze fell from the jewelry store employee's to matte porcelain.

["You pick one?"]

"Uhhh. Yes and no. I'm gonna ask about a payment plan. Guess I'm getting cold feet," he gassed shooting a nod to someone helpful. Already prepared were forms for the transaction, or the start of one.

["Who wouldn't? I can chip in if you need it."]

Gohan took one more glance at options, another moment to process, pulling his beanie closer to his scalp.

"No way. Save your money," he said dotting the lines on any page he placed a signature.

["You got everything squared away."]

"Yep."

["But you're thinking it's too soon."]

"Yep. What if she says no?"

["Early planning never hurt anyone. You know how long I've waited to see either one of you own up? You guys are Lifetime movie nauseating."]

"No ones that bad," he smiled giving back a pen that wasn't his.

["Play it cool. In other words don't be you."]

"Ouch. Catch you later."

His chat over he could only wait for the bagging to finish. A small token for a smaller box, a push to adjust his glasses, he didn't cry over spilled milk nor the monthly bill to come. His phone shaking in his pocket he rose a finger to excuse himself. The number flashing unknown, he tapped and held it to his ear.

"Hello?"

["Gohan. I need your help!"]

"Dr. Quinzel?" he said hearing the urgency in her pitch. "Are you alright?"

["It's that Harley Quinn woman! She kidnapped me on my way to work!]

"It's okay doctor," he said worriedly. "Do you know where you are?"

["— I think it's—there aren't any windows. Wait. Part of Mercey island! She mentioned it. Please, Gohan! She said the longer you take the more it'll hurt! Please hurry!"]

"Don't worry. That's close to Arkham, okay. Just stay calm. I'll be there soon," he promised, holding a hand out and antsy.

He couldn't fly off. Using his speed in public, as Gavin Sung, was a no-no. He thanked the clerk, whom lost her cheer because he did, she watched him walk as briskly as he could without raising suspicion.

With no time to waste he stepped from the air partial to the ocean. A mass of rock sat behind a shack, part of a smaller landmass and part of the island but his only question was why he couldn't feel it when he should've. It's just sitting there, the only door chained shut, surrounding it was more of the same. Killed killers. Members of the Falconi Crime Family she had a penchant for mutilating.

"Dr. Quinzel?!" he said stepping past the bodies to grip the chains.

Tugging ripped each link free and the door away with it. Seated where she should've been, another mobster, his grubby face was smeared in red like his suit jacket. The cutting left him unrecognizable but the paper taped to his neck read clear as day. Most curious was the bulbous object in his mouth. And when its beeping stopped. Not impervious, the blast did burn, though years of tempering his body lessened the sting. Gohan heard only ringing as he lowered his guard. He could see just fine. Bits of of the mobsters drifted with ash and fire.

"— I knew you'd come, baby boy. You always do," rang a familiar voice. She certainly favored her Brooklyn roots when in character. As there was nothing left on the island to look at he turned to her "transformation."

"Doctor?" Gohan said.

Harley also had a penchant for a mallet he half-believed she could carry. She propped it to one of her shoulders, holding her revolver out with her free hand, fingerless gloves helping her keep her grip steady.

"This is what happens when you cross 'em," she smiled though she sounded ready to burst into tears. "I know bullets can't stop you. I ain't gonna shoot anyway."

She dropped the burden that was one of her weapons—pressing the muzzle of the other to her temple.

"Now just, hold on. I told you I'd come for you. And I kept my word. Didn't I?" Gohan said as he reached.

"Can you call me Harley? Just once," she said, shivering. Her corset and booty shorts didn't stave off any of the afternoon gust.

Gohan thought to smile warmly. "Okay Harley."

Runny eye shadow made her eyes pop as her pupils dilated. But it was her instant cheerfulness he wanted more of.

"Nightwing did this to me. The skin. Why you can't sense where I am. Dropped me in an Ace Chemicals vat like a piece'a trash cuz' I wouldn't let him screw me over. I analyzed every Leaguer. Had appointments with a few more than the rest. Him and Supes wanted me to pay 'em a monthly protection fee. Threatened to—do things to me if I didn't. They did some things anyway. Had Falconi's boys harass me every day till' I finally lost it. I was a good girl before."

"I believe you," Gohan said closer than he was before she told him. So close that his hand took hers as he helped her lower the gun from her head.

"Let me help doct—Harley. Would you like that?"

Harley's lips quivered with her stare first. Startling him, she buried her head into his chest, weeping. As it was the right thing to do and something he had no qualms with, he held her close. He gave her all the time she needed.

"— Are you high?"

They had her persisting grin broadcast on every inch of the monitor's width. Waller at his side as a giant image of her flat on a cot in his bunker and wearing his gi. Her appearance, her choice of attire outside of a piece from his, Gohan thought the change in personality the most jarring.

"I'm not saying her crimes should be swept under the rug. But she's as much a victim as they were. And I owe her," he pleaded.

Waller thought him as crazy and her glance spoke volumes.

"Not everyone should be saved. I'd have thought by now you understood that," she said turning to face him.

"You had to know what was going on," he said not one to back down if his mind was made up. "Give me two weeks. If I'm wrong I'll personally take her to Arkham."

Waller gave him the eye. He thought it more her pondering the ways it could work in her favor. He learned she'd always have a method to her madness. Which is why she chose to remain expressionless.

"Two weeks. If she so much as farts in a way that irks me you'll take the rap for it."

She joined Gohan in watching their guest. The good doctor was a little too pleased to be pleased.

. . . .

His table's arrangement had no faults to contend with. Pushing a knot toward his collar he glanced from it to see her: the soft edges of her bob were curled outward, her earrings were diamonds she squeezed from coal and a lace dress was low-cut to reveal a peek at what it squeezed together. Their waiter picked his jaw up from the floor to pull her chair out. Taking a seat she didn't mind her "date's" eagerness.

"When you dress like that," Gohan spoke as his eyes jumped from her cleavage to icy lipstick. "where do you keep the suit?"

Karen laughed but did so leisurely.

"Oh come on. Don't tell me you forgot," she said.

"I'd have to know first," he said lifting a brow. "Sky blue is your color."

"I know," she grinned not fidgeting but he could tell she wasn't for the look. She slid him a folder of fresh photographs, eight by tens, aware that their waiter left for a time. "The Intergang synthetics. Category Helios. The newer models are unmanned, composed of tungsten and traces of vanadium. Not unusual, considering. And a bonus. Proof Falconi is just another pawn on the table."

Gohan thought their blue-blacks were tacky as hell, whether it adorned their operatives or their bipedal machines. He also thought he was sick to death of the word criminal and everything it meant.

"Yay for x-ray vision," she added.

"And Starr Enterprise satellites," he said.

"Ed was outside of the Daily Star to pick you up. Was the limo not Super Saiyan worthy?"

"Got the okay from Donna first. And I didn't want to keep you waiting."

"Fair enough," Karen replied straightening a wrinkle in her dress.

Gohan had his fill of "work" pictures closing the folder and leaving it closed. "What else?"

"Hmm. Let's see. Oh yeah. Say goodbye to Waller's bunker. You know just spending the night there felt like I was trapped in an episode of Big Brother. Selina didn't pay for squat. That place was built on Waller's dime for you to watch you. Think about it. She just let's you have free reign over tech most people will die never knowing exists because she trusts you? And we're taking that ship apart. Piece by piece."

"— You're preaching to the choir, Karen," he said regretfully.

"Glad to hear it," she said. "I'd like that Justice League counter. And I think we've got it."

"Which reminds me. Congrats. Power Girl has a nice ring to it," he said wanting to change the subject and fast. "People love giving us names."

Karen smirked as he rubbed his temples and closed his eyes.

"Sorry if I seem out of it," he said. "I've been up for three days straight."

"Then let's do simple," she said but he didn't buy a word of it.

She stroked the neck of her wine glass and sat one tempting thigh over the other.

"Haven't seen you rock a tux before," she said as her eyes started at his shoulders and worked their way down. "High fashion might be the thing to do it."

"Do what?"

"Knock you down a peg."

"A better question would be do I enjoy this. Thanks for the suit and all, but, like you said. I prefer simple."

He looked first at his chest then the emptiness surrounding them. Then her application of blush. She wore very little makeup because it was a human custom she refused to embrace.

"It's your turn," he said leaning into the discussion.

Her affecting eyes fell but any stress felt like the visitor that wouldn't leave. She set hands under her chin.

"If I knew about Dr. Quinzel I would've helped," she said looking up to his looking down.

"That's not the effect I thought I'd have on people I appreciate," he said.

"Hey. Stop that. No one's blaming you for every chink in the armor," she said.

Karen reached across the table. His hand was available so she daringly took it and gently squeezed. Gohan's smile wasn't forced, but it was light. It was the least he could give her.

"Deep down, she's a good woman. Maybe with this new theme you're selling, I can really help her," he vented because she was listening. "I'm glad I met you guys. All of you."

Karen rubbed her thumb over his. The gesture like her fair skin, was comfortable.

"Morbid much? I miss the so naive its borderline mentally challenged you."

Gohan cracked a smile forgetting her hand still held his until she took hers from it. Karen wryly grinned for their waiter's return and his pouring her another glass. She could afford it, so she gulped it down like it didn't cost thousands per bottle. Wiping her lips with the back of her hand, burping, what he learned of the slang "tomboy" didn't do her justice.

"There a problem?" she asked as if he had one.

"No problems here, Ms. Starr," he smiled.

Sultry written all over her face he recognized it: not one of their thoughts were decent.

["— Personally, I could care less if he leads a new team. The guy's just another naive chump with too much power lording over the decent. I'm looking at you Superman. Or isn't it Ultralite or something now? —"]

["— Look at what happened in Stockholm last month! Where was Gohan then? Metas are freaks. Give them an inch. —"]

["— He saved my daughter's life last year. The riots, the protests, they miss the big picture. If Gohan thinks the Justice League could do better. Be better. Who am I to second-guess whether or not he's wrong? —"]

["— That area in Stockholm wasn't inhabited? And what if it was? Do we just forgive and forget? And if it happens again? Superhumans walk our streets and an alien-human whatever the hell is their spokesperson? We already got a Martian and two more just like him. I say, don't waste your time, kid. Leave it to the League. There's a reason we for root them and them only! —"]

. . . .

They called him "Mongul" for a reason. She drove the brute from his feet through walls harder than hard tossing punches to rearrange both ends of his face. Mongul caught her wrists as they burst into a room stocked with xeno-cannons. He forced her into steel shifting its shape instead of snapping her back. His chance to stomp her chest with a giant boot missed. Karen up and ready she blocked the back of his fist countering with her left hook and knocking him through a weapon stand. Wiping lavender from a split lip his waxy smile spread.

"Impressive. And here I thought you were but a mindless brawler," he said. "Fight me like you mean it, Power Girl. How else can I determine your value?"

Power Girl's pupils burning bright Mongul knew to charge her like a raging tank. His shoulder sending her through metal again, she folded it open, rolling across the floor of an emptied box. Her muscles were beginning to scream and she couldn't call it. Mongul's concealed resource stayed that way. He drew his fist back, it more akin to a rigid, yellow boulder than fingers any humanoid could close. Bringing it down the strike plunged through crack-resistant flooring. She gripped his thick neck with thick thighs, leaving him humble.

"Uggh!" she grunted.

Her grapple hurled her opponent crashing his head into the ceiling. She yanked his ankle. Twirling him beyond fast his guts shuddered as letting go sent him through another partition no one would reinforce.

Not since Freeza's had he seen a space cruiser like it. A lone figure maintained his levitation beyond Mongul's means for trekking star systems in minutes. Sometimes faster. His eyes catching the coming and going of smaller ships he thanked good timing.

"That has be the ship she's on," he said, but in the void, even he couldn't hear himself.

He progressed anyway. A chain of precise attacks was his manhandling Mongul's fleet with his bare hands. Each strike ripped through each craft, he went back, he went forward, side to side, before they knew what to shoot for. Bringing into view his power it was unleashed as rapid blasts from hands he swung over and over again. His effort brightened the darkness as a sporadic but continuous light show popping anywhere to his front before each flash burned out.

"— Kryptonite, Karen Starr. Courtesy of someone you'll be meeting. Very soon. You aren't immune to magic either. Are you?"

"You would overcompensate," she said though speaking only stoked the fire in her chest. "Fucker."

"Such a lovely mouth. I will have to train you in how to properly address me."

His fingers revealed the jade mineral, as Karen shielded her eyes, her blood feeling like it was hot enough to boil away her veins. There were no words for the agony. Mongul ripped a beam from the room's support.

"Rahhhn!" he growled.

Swinging the thick hunk Karen dodged the first, and the second, but not the third attempt to bash her with it. She felt the air leaving her lungs as she was sent through a vat spilling whatever sharp shards and liquid it contained. Her still breathing mocked.

"Foolish!"

Mongul gripped her neck. Holding her above the floor, her feet flailed. His fist rammed her stomach so hard she coughed red onto his gauntlet.

"SUBMIT!"

Power Girl gathered her reserves.

"Ne—Never," she muttered. "You fugly prick."

She brought her knee into his chin snapping his head back, giving her time to break the hold. He caught her next try. Lifting her and swinging her down slammed the laboratory floor with her head. It was there she remained, trying desperately to take in air, her strength leaving her by the wayside. Mongul dropped his foot onto her spine.

"ARRNRNNAA!" she screamed.

He took hold of her hair snatching her head up as he wasn't finished.

"For your insolence, you will become my pet. To do with as I please," he said licking her lobe with a barbed tongue.

Dragging her from the area he made doubly sure to keep the gleaming rock to her skin. No longer awake, Power Girl was left powerless. Her mind wanted to wake her resting body, but couldn't. She remained at the warlord's mercy.

He had the space of a mostly leveled docking bay to discard her. Karen slid along reflective flooring until she didn't.

"Rest, dearest. You'll need it," he grinned, a twinkle in his all-red eyes.

His surprise wasn't her resilience. It was seeing it: nothing. The force-field closing off space quiet and eerily so. As he turned—she was gone. Several docked ships were there, his personal craft, a control room overlooking the bay, but not her. He had to turn again. The anomaly crouched. He lightly grazed Karen's bruises seeing them rapidly even out before his eyes. She was right again.

"Karen. Wake up. I'm here," he said.

The splits in her lips closed as they curved.

"Gohan?" she whispered. "What the hell took you, dummy?"

"An afternoon brawl with Livewire. Wonder Woman says you owe her five bucks," he smirked.

"She used a fire hose?"

"She used a fire hose."

He helped her stand as the baffled Mongul chose to gawk. The distortion of his arrogance replaced by uncertainty Gohan kept watch as Power Girl regained herself. It didn't take long for him to narrow a leer. The thought of the alien tyrant laying even a finger on her was enough of an incentive.

"I boxed some of that green thing. It should be safe to take with you. Get going," he said.

Karen didn't move a muscle.

"— You never listen to me," he sighed.

"Says the guy who did the exact opposite of what I told him to," she said.

"Ahhhh. So this is the hybrid warrior. Said to be as strong as even you, Power Girl. And what is this? She stands so close to you, creature. It's a pity you won't live to see what becomes of her."

Karen's thoughts were for the control room. She'd love nothing more than to steer his cruiser into the nearest sun.

"I've got an idea. Unless you want me to stay," she said. "You are kind of a lightweight."

"So I'm told. I'll see you in a bit," he said.

Power Girl could fly, no worse off then when she arrived. Mongul decided to give chase reaching to pull but stripped of his only leverage. And something clutched his wrist. No vice able to crush meteorites, but a hand. He turned to see Gohan's staying his.

"I said don't touch her," he frowned.

Mongul threw a fist but Gohan's was faster. Mongul's slamming inoperable ships ignited their burst and he caught the full of it. Gohan wore his disappointment on his sleeve.

"For all your bark you've got no bite. No wonder you had to cheat."

Mongul erupted from chunks of metal. It was a first for him. Pain. He snorted like a wild beast and brought his feet down on the approach.

"You—how dare you?!" he grimaced.

Looking for the nearest thing he clutched one of his army's ships. It smashed the other side of the bay after a harsher release. He thought his eyes played tricks. They hadn't. Gohan didn't move.

"Come at me with everything you've got," he said.

Mongul, his anger smothering his judgement, trucked forward. Being bested in combat tugged at the tethers. His punches were powerful, but reckless. Gohan pushed away what could harm him. He ducked a boot that could kick a car to pieces. He swept Mongul's open foot sending him up and then down against his hairless scalp. Gohan grabbed his legs and turned. His velocity piquing Mongul's vision blurred. His stomach churned before Gohan thought to let go, listening to his holler as he plunged through any layer in his path. Spinning violently he ruptured an area at the opposite end of his vessel! A dank corner housing engines and the ship's core. The flooring beneath him wet Gohan joined him from a form of teleportation he'd never seen. Loud clicks and a humming from the energy giving power to the core. Uncomfortable sounds for an uncomfortable sight. He tested his patience again only to receive a fist twisting his gut. It felt as if it opened a hole in his back. His eyes bulged with his cheeks. Gohan arched his kick cracking Mongul's neck leaving him stuck between razor-edged metal and electricity. His arms crossed, he wrestled with pity for the trapped, if nothing else.

"Karen had it in the bag," he said.

Mongul spat whatever he could muster.

"I AM THE GREATEST WARRIOR IN THIS GALAXY FOOL! I will kill you when I'm free. I swear it!"

"Okay."

His eyes twitched as Gohan helped him loose. Stepping back he let him fall to fractured knees. Mongul cracked the floor in anguish. He followed it with another ambush. He swung a hook but his foe beat him to it, breaking his fingers. As he looked to his front Gohan stood at his back. Mongul yelled slicing with an elbow. He felt something dent his nape causing his slide across the room's slick, his head and chest forcing up the foundation. Desperate and humiliated he turned nothing like surrender. Seeing the sparking field of nucleic brightness behind his foe was opportunity calling.

"— Bravo, creature. You've won. You are an excellent combatant. I offer a bargain. Help me access War World and I will tell you what you want to know."

"You'll tell me anyway."

Mongul's battered face shifted as he flashed a smile missing teeth.

"Well. I suppose I shall. After all—I am defeated."

In a hasty move he reached for a glowing rod. Drawing it back he threw it for Gohan's lean, it barely missing his nose as it plunged into the core. Energy spikes sounding like rolling thunder he parted his mouth at the result.

"This ship will implode in less than three minutes. Best of luck, boy!" Mongul sneered. "Now if you'll excuse me. I'll go collect the other hybrid and be on my way."

It took another flash of resolve to make Mongul question himself. Gohan pressed the spot between his brows with two finger ends.

"— Thanks, dad," he said under his breath.

The climax of the ability wasn't special. It was too sudden to notice. Mongul was able to do nothing more than let it sink in, stunned, defeated, and because of his miscalculation, short on time.


End file.
